


Rock Me

by GhostWriterGirl



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, Niam - Fandom, One Direction (Band), ziam - Fandom
Genre: Bottom Harry, Bottom Liam, Bottom Zayn, F/M, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Multi, My First Fanfic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smut, Top Liam, Top Louis, Top Niall, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2018-10-29 07:26:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 26
Words: 125,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10849278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostWriterGirl/pseuds/GhostWriterGirl
Summary: I try to sit up but find myself pinned down. Beside me, I'm just noticing now, is a sleeping boy with chocolate curls. What?“Morning, Lou,” he whispers. I fumble for words.“Mornin’,” is the best I can come up with. Harry has his arm draped across my chest. He tightens his hold, hugging me.“Thank you for taking care of me last night,” he says. I feel him look up at me. Swallowing, I turn my face to look down at him. His cheeks are flushed and sleep sticks to his features. His hair is an unruly mess. And I love it. No one should look that good just waking up and hung over.“No problem,” I say. I turn back to look at the ceiling. “How do you feel?”“Are we going to talk about it?” he asks, dodging my question. I sigh. I was quite content to stare at the dots on Harry's ceiling, relishing the moments of calm with Harry's body curled around me. We've never cuddled like this in bed before. I like it.





	1. Same Mistakes

**Author's Note:**

>     Hello, everyone! This is my first ever fan fic and honestly the first time I’ve ever shared my writing with anyone. So saying I’m nervous is an understatement. Also, I jumped on the 1D and Larry Stylinson bandwagon super late. I only started listening to 1D music this January. And I didn’t know Larry Stylinson was a thing until like March. So whatever. I still think it’s cute.  
>     Since I’m late to the game on this one, I think it goes without saying that some details won’t match what’s actually happened. For example, the timelines in this story won’t line up with the real timelines. I’m also not going to do a stupid amount of research so I can get details accurate. This is just a fun thing to write. Also, I have never written anything with smut. Sooo this should be interesting. Also, some of the words might not mesh. I'm attempting to make the language and wording sound like it would come from the boys. But I live in the US and don't use all the same words. Some of them I do. And some of the spelling comes natural. Like colour and favourite. So just bear with me. Please and thanks.  
>     With all that being said, keep in mind that this is my first one so go easy on me! Thanks everyone. Hope you like it.  
>     Disclaimer (because apparently it’s needed?): I don’t own anything pertaining to One Direction. I’m writing this under the assumption that the plot line and any details of this story are pure fiction. Take that how you will.

**Chapter One: Same Mistakes**

   “Harry, I’m telling you right now, if you don’t stop putting kale in my smoothies, I’m going to end you,” I shout across the house. I can just picture Harry’s cheeky grin. I know he means well but he can keep his kale to himself.

    “Sorry, Lou. But you really need to eat more vegetables,” Harry says. He waltzes into the kitchen looking quite pleased with himself. I take my once delicious chocolate and banana smoothie and thrust it into Harry’s chest.

    “I love you to pieces. But kale does not belong in a chocolate banana smoothie,” I tell him. Harry giggles and then saunters away from me. I roll my eyes and start digging through our pantry looking for something else to eat. I find a box of poptarts and decide they’ll have to do. I reach up and grab it only to find it’s empty. I yell, swear, and chuck the box clear across the room. We keep making the same mistake by letting people have at it with our pantry.

    “Lou? What’s wrong?” Harry calls from the living room. I follow the sound of his voice and find him sitting cross legged on the floor, a guitar poised in his lap.

    “Oh...are you writing?” I ask. I’m surprised because ever since we ended our first tour, Harry has been so adamant about taking a breath. But here he is, sitting amongst a mess of manuscript paper and napkins - Harry’s signature medium for jotting down lyrics.

    “Yeah. I had an idea so I’m trying to get it down before I lose it. Why were you getting mad over there?” he asks, reminding me of why I came in here to begin with.

    “Yes. Our lovely leprechaun has once again finished off our pop tarts and left us with an empty box to remember him by,” I tell him. Harry rolls his eyes.

    “There’s another box, Louis. It’s on top of the fridge,” Harry tells me. I immediately pout. Harry knows I can’t reach on top of the fridge.

    “Lovely. Then you go get them,” I demand. Harry laughs at me but does as I say anyways. Harry seems to get some sort of sick amusement out of putting my things out of my reach. Even back during our X Factor days, Harry was up to his antics any chance he got.

    “You’re cute when you’re mad,” Harry says. He returns to the living room, hands me a foil wrapped pair of the sugary goodness, and returns to his guitar. Butterflies start to stir in my stomach at the underhanded compliment. I push the feeling aside and plop myself down on the couch above Harry. I listen quietly as he hums a few bars before scribbling something down on the manuscript paper. He pauses to play a few chords and then breaks into what I assume is the melody.

    “This is beautiful, Harry,” I tell him. Usually, I keep quiet when Harry writes. One time, before I learned to stay quiet, I made a comment about the song he was working on. I said I didn’t think it would amount to much because it was too “poppy”. Yeah...well that song was called “What Makes You Beautiful”. Since then, I’ve shut right up and kept my comments to myself. Well, until now, that is.

    “Thank you, Louis. I’m really pleased with it so far. Can I play you everything I have?” he asks. I nod and a brilliant smile plasters itself to Harry’s face.

 _Your hand fits in mine like it's made just for me_  
_But bear this mind it was meant to be_  
_And I'm joining up the dots with the freckles on your cheeks_  
_And it all makes sense to me_

 _I won't let these little things slip out of my mouth_  
_But if I do, it's you, oh it's you, they add up to_  
_I'm in love with you and all these little things_

 _You can't go to bed without a cup of tea_  
_Maybe that's the reason that you talk in your sleep_  
_And all those conversations are the secrets that I keep_  
_Though it makes no sense to me_

 

    Harry stops singing and playing and I pout again.

    “Oh please keep going,” I plead. Harry chuckles at me and hands me the manuscript paper.

    “I can’t. That’s all I’ve got so far. I think I want another verse between the first and the chorus. What do you think?” he asks. I read through what he has so far, imagining him singing it again. Pieces of the lyrics feel familiar. Like I’ve heard them before. Then it dawns on me.

    “Hey! I know these lyrics. You said these things to me once! When we were on the Up All Night Tour. You told me that I was talking in my sleep and that I should stop drinking weird teas before bed!” I exclaim. Harry laughs at me again. He places his guitar on the floor next to him and then pulls me down into his lap. I love that Harry and I are close. We’ve been close really since we started out. Our X Factor days were a lot of awkward conversations and blushing but that seemed to fade as time went on. As we progressed through the competition, we got closer. I mean, we got closer with all the boys. But there was something different about me and the curly haired boy.

    “Yep. And I still say them now. You talk in your sleep. It's quite interesting though,” he chuckles. I feel my blood run cold. Shit...what do I say?

    "Oh?” I ask. I curse myself for the way my voice sounds - so small and timid.

    “Nothing bad. Mostly chastising Niall for eating our food or asking Lou to fix your hair,” Harry says. He nuzzles his nose into the hair at the back of my neck. The pieces are starting to curl up. I desperately need a haircut but Harry said once that he likes the way my hair looks longer with a beanie. He told me it was cute. So long and stuffed under a beanie it'll stay.

    “Well do feel free to kick me awake when I won't shut up,” I offer. Harry smiles and shakes his head.

    “Nah. I think I'll just let it go. It's cute,” he says softly. I feel blood rush to my cheeks. He really needs to stop calling me cute. Once upon a time, before we moved in together, our friendship was fairly normal. We had boundaries and didn't act like this. Who am I trying to kid? We've always been like this. Nearly from day one it's been Harry and Louis against the world.

    “Well then don't ever complain when I keep you up then,” I say, poking him in the ribs. Harry flinches away and then retaliates by tickling me. I try to clamber out of his grasp but I fail. Harry's strong arms envelop me and I'm completely surrounded. It's warm and safe and I feel myself relax into him.

    “It's not as fun when you give up and relax,” Harry pouts.

    “Oh, excuse me! Not my fault I can turn the tickle off. Sorry you don't possess that power,” I joke. I attack his belly, tickling until I feel Harry lift me up and away from him.

    “I may not have that superpower. But I am still stronger than you,” he says, depositing me on the couch again. The moment his fingers leave my skin, I'm craving it again. I like when we can play like this. It feels natural.

    “Can we stay in tonight and watch a movie?” I ask. I love movie nights. Harry makes popcorn, I make hot cocoa, and we snuggle under a mountain of blankets. It's quite nice.

    “Ah I told Zayn we'd come round at seven to get him. We're going to that new club downtown. Remember?” he says, triggering my recollection of the conversation from two nights ago.

 

    _“Harry, Zayn says we have to go to the new club with him on Friday. Something about good publicity?” I said. I rummaged through my closet looking for a particular hoodie only to find Harry wearing it. “Is that my hoodie?”_

_“And what if it is?” Harry asked, shooting me a look from across the room._

_“Easy. Don't get your knickers in a twist. I was just asking,” I chuckled. It secretly made me happy that Harry is comfortable to just take my clothes._

_“I like the way it smells,” Harry said, pushing his curls out of his eyes. I grabbed a bandana from my closet and tossed it at him. Wordlessly, Harry slipped it on and successfully tamed the mess that is his perpetual bed head._

_"It smells like me,” I pointed out. The moment the words left my mouth, I panicked. Is he going to take that the wrong way?_

_"Exactly,” he said. I stood there, frozen._

_“Oh,” is about all I could manage to say. Painful silence filled my bedroom. I had to break it. “So yeah. Club on Friday. Can you call Zayn to figure out time?”_

_“Sure thing,” Harry said. He got off the bed and leaves me to continue rifling through my clothes. What the fuck was that? I_ _finally decided on another plain black Adidas hoodie. I pulled it on over my head and went over to my bed. My bed? The bed. It's the bed. A few weeks ago, my anxiety got bad. It decided to manifest in awful nightmares. Since then, whenever I wake up in a fit, Harry comes in to wake me. I'm the last week, they've occurred more frequently, prompting Harry to sleep in my room._

 

    “Earth to Louis!” Harry shouts. I shake myself from the memory.

    “Yeah yeah. Seven sounds good. Okay,” I stumble. I make an excuse and get up to leave. Glancing at my phone, I realize it's later than I thought. Harry will be getting ready soon. If I have any chance of getting rid of the issue straining against the front of my sweatpants, I need a shower. Now.

    The water hits my skin and I feel myself relax. I hate that Harry does this to me. To my body. It's obnoxious. I make quick work of washing my hair and scrubbing down my body. As I work my way down, I pause when I get to my waist. Surely I can get through this quickly, right? With thoughts of Harry wearing my hoodie and the way he often lounges on our couch in just his shorts, I find release alarmingly fast. Fuck…

 

    “You take ungodly long showers,” Harry says. I walk out of the bathroom to find him sprawled across the bed. His hair still looks damp but it seems to be mostly tamed. I briefly wonder how much product it takes to make it look like that. Down the hall, attached to Harry's room, is Harry's bathroom. The one he rarely uses. The only way you can even tell he uses it at all is the numerous bottles and tubes of hair product all over the counter. I really think it's unnecessary though because a second set of all the same products is tucked away in a basket on a shelf in my bathroom.

    “Well thank God we have more than one shower, right?” I stick my tongue out at him. He chuckles and goes back to staring at his phone. “Anything good?”

    “Not particularly. Same shit, different day. Our lovely fans are demanding a new album,” he says, scrolling through the new posts.

    “I can't wait to drop that bomb. Oh hey guys. Ask and you shall receive,” I smile to myself. I always enjoy making our fans happy. We truly would be nowhere without them. When we announced our first tour, the response was utterly incredible.

    “Only two weeks, I think,” Harry says. He gets up and goes over to my closet. Opening it, he starts to hum some of the melody from earlier.

    “Oh? You're going to announce it before we've started?” I laugh at him. Harry shrugs.

    “I figure it's inevitable. I've already started writing several songs. I know Niall has been collaborating with a couple writers from the first album. Can I pick out your outfit?” Harry asks. I giggle and sit down on the bed to wait. See, it's not actually a request. It's more of a warning. Even if I refused, he's still pick out my clothes. I like when he does though.

    “Not going to argue with you, Haz,” I tell him. I watch as he smirks at the statement and descends upon my wardrobe. Eventually, he selects a pair of ripped up skinny jeans, black Adidas trainers, a maroon v-neck tee, and a grey cardigan. I pick up the cardigan and lift an eyebrow.

    “It's cold outside!” Harry insists. I put the article back in the closet.

    “Yeah..but it's not like we're walking. We're driving right to the club and then going inside. And we both know it'll be hot as balls in there. If I wear it and then take it off there, I'll lose it,” I say, admitting my inability to keep track of my clothes. Harry must pick up on that bit too.

    “Well then stop taking all your clothes off, ya tease,” Harry laughs. I'm about to fire back when the doorbell rings. “That'll be Liam. Get dressed. We gotta go.”

    I shake my head as his curls go bouncing out of the room. I notice he didn't pick out any underwear. This seems to be a pattern. I grab a pair of plain grey boxer briefs and then quickly slip everything on. I’m glad he chose these jeans because they're my favourite. Actually, I like everything he chose. When I'm finished, I jog down the stairs.

    “Tommo! Glad you could grace us with your presence. Let's go!” Liam jokes. I roll my eyes, grab my phone, and follow the boys out the door. Harry's car is nice. Nicer than mine. He navigates through the city with ease until we get to Zayn’s flat. Harry lays on the horn a few times before Zayn’s head pops out the window.

    “Oi! Shut it! We're coming down!” he shouts. He appears to shut the window with more force than necessary.

    “Uhm. Who's we?” Liam asks from the backseat.

    “Hell if I know. I have the same vantage point as you, Lima,” I say. I use the nickname in attempt to calm him. We're not sure what is going on, but Harry and I are fairly certain that Liam has a thing for Zayn. The thought makes my stomach flip. Maybe I'm not the only one who's...not straight.

    “Oh. It's just Niall,” Harry says like it's the answer to every question in Liam’s eyes. It doesn't seem to settle him though. Zayn opens the door and let's Niall slide into the middle seat.

    “Hey guys. Everyone ready? Seatbelts, everyone,” I instruct. There's grumbling from the back about Niall sitting on Zayn’s belt and Zayn’s knees crushing Niall’s leg.

    “It's not my fault you're a leprechaun. Grow a bit and then you won't get crushed. And for the love of all that's good, if you don't get off my seatbelt, I'm going to clock you,” Zayn threatens. Niall punches him in the arm and then complies.

    “Don't be an arse,” Niall practically growls. Harry foregoes asking if everyone is buckled in and pulls out of the tiny parking lot. The ride to the club is quick and filled with pleasant conversation. I out Harry on already working on the next album and the three boys in the back groan in protest.

    “Would it kill you to actually take a break?” Zayn asks. Harry sighs and glares at me. Though I know he's not actually mad at me. Harry has never really been mad at me. Even when I accidentally broke his phone last month. He's asked me to put it in my pocket when we were going through LAX.  Apparently his jeans were too tight and he was afraid it would fall out. Anyways, the phone was in my back pocket when a pap knocked me over. I went spilling onto the floor, falling right on my bum, and my bony ass shattered the screen. I'd crumbled into tears immediately and profusely apologized.

 

    _“Lou, are you okay?” Harry said, lifting me up from under my arms. I pulled the phone from my pocket and began to cry._

_“I'm so sorry, Harry. I'll buy you a new phone,” I cried. Harry just shook his head._

_“I don't give a shit about the phone. Are you okay?” Harry pressed. I shook my head in disbelief. How could he be more concerned about me. I was very clearly fine and his phone was nearly in pieces._

_“I'm fine but your phone-” I said before Harry cut me off by pulling me into his chest._

_“Lou, the phone can be replaced. You cannot,” he said, hugging me close to his body. I cried into his chest, unbelieving that he could possibly care about me more. Any of the other boys would be pissed. It was then._

 

    It was then that the curly haired, dimpled lad from Holmes Chapel stole my heart.

    “I think it might, yeah. I'm just excited to be able to write from the comfort of my own home. He thinks our home is comfortable. OUR home. The thought makes me smile.

    “What are you smiling about, Tommo?” Niall asks. I shake my head.

    “Nothing,” I say. I go back to looking out my window, watching the city whir past me. Before I know it, we're pulling up to the club. We all get out, Harry tosses his keys to the valet, and then we're allowed to skip the line. In hindsight, a more subtle arrival probably would have been beneficial. But too late now as dozens of girls are screaming.

    “Welcome, boys. Okay. Here's the deal. There's a private room upstairs for you all. Full bar inside. Please please please do not bring your drinks outside that room. We're still new and don't need an underage service fine,” the manager explains after intercepting us. We all nod in agreement to the rules and walk towards the heart of the club. The place is packed. This is typically the point where we each grab a lovely lady and bring them upstairs to party with us. Tonight is different though.

    “Alright. I’m goin’ to dance. Check you later,” Zayn says before disappearing into the throng of people.

    “He’s off, yeah? What’s going on?” I ask Niall. The blonde-haired Irishman shrugs his shoulders.

    “I’m not his keeper,” he says flatly. Then it’s Niall who disappears amongst the crowd. I look to Harry and Liam.

    “What is everybody all upset about tonight? This is supposed to be fun,” I whine. Harry hooks his arm around my shoulders and starts pulling me towards the stairs.

    “We will have fun. You, me, and Lima,” Harry announces. I look back to Liam who appears to be staring off in the direction that Zayn left. There is definitely something going on there.

 

    Upstairs, we find exactly what the manager explained. A private room, complete with club security outside the doors, (who actually asked for our IDs), and a large selection of alcohol.

    “Who’s driving tonight. It’s obviously not going to be either of the wankers downstairs,” Harry says, attempting to get a laugh.

    “Lima here looks like he needs some shots. So it’s either you or me, Curly,” I tell him. Then, at the same time, Harry and I both say, “I’ll drive”.

    “You’re doing that married couple thing again,” Liam says as he heads for the bar.

    “You know, most people would say ‘twin thing’. Yet you always go with ‘married couple’. Why is that?” Harry asks. Harry then faces me and we immediately go for rock-paper-scissors, (which I win because Harry always chooses paper).

    “Because you also bicker like an old married couple. Combine that with all the other shit you do and it just seems like a married couple rather than twins,” Liam says. He catches our game out of the corner of his eye. “And that! The unspoken communication. I swear you can read each other’s mind.”

    “That would be cool! If we could communicate telepathically! Then I wouldn’t have to hunt you down to get you to do the dishes!” Harry smiles, elbowing me. The cheeky little shit has a comeback for everything tonight.

    “And I wouldn’t have to yell at you every time you leave the light on before getting into bed. You’d just KNOW to shut it off,” I fire back. The moment the words leave my mouth, I realize what I’ve just said. Liam’s head whips towards me and I immediately command that Harry and I go for rounds two and three of rock-paper-scissors.

    “Why? You already won. Just drink and have fun. I’ll drive,” Harry points out. I give him a look and Harry immediately holds out his fist, ready to commence. We go again and this time, I choose rock. Harry selects paper yet again so he wins this round. I close my eyes and we count out the third round. I sneak a peek and find that Harry chose scissors while I went with paper. He wins. Harry shrugs his shoulders and then heads over to the alcohol. If I made that kind of a slip up sober, I definitely don’t need alcohol. I’m not responsible for the things I saw when I’m drinking.

 

    Two hours later, I’m thoroughly impressed with how much alcohol the eighteen-year-old has put away. Harry’s tall and has a good build. But I didn’t really take him for a drinker. His whole “healthy eating” thing means he typically doesn’t drink much. At home, Harry sometimes has a glass of wine with dinner but even that is a rarity. Aside from the fact that Harry “attempts” to follow United States laws by not drinking under age, he’s just not really ever been one for alcohol.

    “Louuuuuu! There you are,” Harry practically sings. Oh boy.

    “Hey, Haz. If you want to stay awhile, you should probably switch to soda or something,” I suggest. Harry makes a waving away motion with his hand and gives me a funny look.

    “You're one to talk. You'd be sloshed by now,” he says. His words are a bit slurred and his eyes are glassy. He's definitely sloshed. Before I can protest any more, Zayn bursts through the door with a pretty blonde girl attached to his lips. I watch as Liam first freezes and then bolts out of the room.

    “Behave yourself for a few minutes, yeah?” I tell Harry. He makes some sort of affirming grunting noise and then leans his head back on the couch. He's sitting up right and he'll probably just fall asleep. He'll be fine, Lou. Pushing away my anxiety about leaving him, I quickly exit our room in search of Liam.

    Liam has always been sort of an enigma. When I first saw his X Factor audition tape, I was shocked. I thought, how the hell could I ever beat THAT?! I figured I was toast. Never did I think we'd get matched up with three other lads to form this group. Not did I expect him to take on the “dad” role of the group. I think management automatically expected that to be me since I'm the eldest. Little did they know, I'd become the best prankster of us all.

    It takes me awhile to find Liam. But when I do, he's not surprised to see me.

    “Hey Lima Bean,” I greet him. The nickname makes him smile before returning to his somber looking self.

    “I'm too drunk to talk, Louis,” he tells me.

    “On the contrary, I think now is the best time to talk. We're all a little more honest when we've got that liquid courage. So tell me: What the fuck is going on with you and Zayn?" I demand. Liam rolls his head back and releases an exacerbated breath.

    “Nothing is going on,” he says. He can't honestly stand here and tell me there's nothing. There's very clearly something. The two fight and glare at each other like the despise one another and then everything will be fine. But the real problem comes when Zayn is with someone else. I'm about to unleash on him for not talking about it when it suddenly hits me.

    “That's the problem then, innit?” I accuse. I don't say anything else, waiting for his reaction. Liam looks at me and a million things flash through his eyes. Anger. Sadness. Happiness. Relief. Confusion. They whiz by until he seems to settle on indifference.

    “There's no problem, Tommo,” he lies. I shake my head and grab onto one of his shoulders.

    “No, there is. The problem is that there isn't anything going on. But you want there to be,” I say simply. The statement isn't particularly descriptive but I can see by the look in Liam’s eyes that I've gotten it. What I wasn't prepared for was the way his shoulders silently began to shake and the wetness that spilled down his face. I quickly wrap my arms around his shoulders and pull him to me, “Oh shit, Liam. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Shhh. It's okay.”

    “I don't know what I'm doing wrong,” he cries into my shoulder. He turns his face into my neck and I can feel his tears hitting my skin.

    “You're not doing anything wrong, Li. Zayn can be pretty thick sometimes, yeah? Maybe you just need to tell him you feel,” I suggest.

    “That's just the thing. He knows how I feel!” Liam fires back. He switches from sad to angry in no time and suddenly he's pulled away from me and is pacing back and forth like a lion.

    “How do you know,” I ask. I want to keep him talking. I know it's healthy to talk this shit out but I’m afraid of upsetting him. But Liam gives me a hurt expression and then shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans. His eyes drop to the floor likes he's considering something. I ask him again how he knows and Liam looks up at me with the most crushed look I've ever seen in someone's eyes.

    “We slept together,” he says. Surprise.


	2. Stole My Heart

**Chapter Two: Stole My Heart**

    “Wow. Okay. Uhm...did it...not go well?” I ask, unsure of how to approach this topic. A touch of laughter lights up his face before Liam continues.

    “No. It was actually amazing. Nothing like what I expected. And we were both sober. But the next morning, I woke up and he was gone. Couldn't find him anywhere and I went into a complete panic,” Liam explains. This triggers a memory of when we were on tour and Zayn disappeared for hours. He almost missed a show. When he finally reappeared, he and Liam exchanged words and now that I think of it, that seems to have been the turning point. Since then, everything between them has been strained and forced.

    “That day on tour,” I say, telling him I remember. Liam nods.

    “Yeah. When he came back, I told him how scared I'd been. He told me I shouldn't worry because it's not like we were a thing anyways. His words. God, Louis...those words ripped me to pieces. Right there in the dressing room. Lou tried to talk to me while she was doing my hair. But I was useless. I don't even know how I got through that show,” he recounts. Around us, people seem to be recognizing who we are.

    “I think we should move somewhere more private,” I tell him. I grab Liam’s hand and pull him through the dancing mass of people until I finally find a bouncer. “How much for a VIP room?”

    “We're not a brothel. Get a room elsewhere,” he spits at us. He looks between me, Liam, and our hands and sneers at us.

    “Oi, do you know who we are? We're in One Direction. In two seconds flat, I could have this club exploding. It doesn't look like you have enough manpower to deal with that,” I threaten. It's very rare that I pull out the I’m-a-celebrity card. But this situation calls for it.

    “Yeah. And I'm the king of England,” the burly man says in an awful fake British accent.  _ Oh. You want to play that way, huh? Fine. _

    I drop Liam’s hand and walk over to a table of girls.

    “Hello, ladies. Do you mind if I stand on your table for a moment?” I ask them, trying my best to sound genuinely polite and not annoyed. One of the girls is speechless, one immediately pulls out her phone, and the other two nod their heads and tell me how much they love me.

    “Louis, you're fantastic. We love One Direction,” the first girl says once she's found her voice.

    “Aww thanks, love. That means a lot,” I tell her, smiling. As I start climbing onto their table, ready to cause a scene, I feel someone grab the back of my shirt and yank me down.

    “You made your point. I'll get you a room,” the bouncer spits. He let's go of my shirt, which I now have to straighten and flatten out, and leads us upstairs. I grab Liam and pull him behind me.   
  


 

    This room is much less extravagant than the one reserved for the group. But it's quiet, has a lock on the door, and serves it's purpose. I click the lock in place and go flop on the couch. Liam stands awkwardly in the corner, looking quite unsure of himself.

    “Come sit, Leeeeyummmm,” I say, trying to lift his mood by dragging out the syllables of his name. Sulking, he comes to join me.

    “I don't know what I'm supposed to do here. That night was great. I mean really good. It felt like that's exactly where we were supposed to be. Oh god what if I hurt him? I didn't mean to hurt him. Fuck. I must have hurt him. What other explanation could there be? Or maybe I was really awful in bed. Jesus,” Liam throws out all these words and then throws himself back into the couch and drapes a muscular arm over his eyes. He swears again. I can't help but laugh. This, of course, earns me a glare.

    “Sorry. I'm not laughing at you. Really, I'm not. It's just the way you spill it all out and then fling yourself into the couch. I'm sure you didn't hurt him, mate. If you'd hurt him, he'd have told you to stop, yeah? When you guys...uhm...finished...did he just get up and leave right away,” I ask. I feel my cheeks get warm at the thought of Liam and Zayn in the compromising position.

    “No! After, we showered together and then went to bed. He stayed with me in my hotel room. And he cuddled  _ me _ ! I assumed he'd want me to hold him but he insisted on holding me. I thought it was fine. But when I woke up, he was gone,” Liam cries. That is absolutely not the night I envisioned.  _ They showered together. That's practically more intimate than sex. _ Hearing the pain in Liam’s voice as he remembers the night makes me angry.

    “Wait here. I'll be back,” I tell him. Liam just nods and pulls his knees up to his chest. When I shut the door behind me, I catch a glimpse of Liam wiping fresh tears from his face. I fly down the hall and burst through the door of our group's room. Harry is standing by the bar with Niall and they're each throwing back a shot.  _ He's going to be so sick tomorrow. _

    “Hey, Tommo!” Niall greets me. He seems unsteady on his feet and I just have to laugh. These lovely lads. Remembering what I came in here for, I scan the room for Zayn. I expect to find him splayed out on one of the couches with the blonde in a less than appropriate fashion. But I'm left speechless when I find him sitting cross legged on the floor behind the bar, his head in his hands.  _ Please tell me he's also crying. _

    “Zayn?” I say carefully. The raven haired boy looks up at me and oh what a sight he is. His hair is a right mess, his eyes are red rimmed and puffy, and his nose seems to be running like a faucet.

    “I'm not in the mood, Lou,” he sniffs. I can count the number of times I've seen Zayn cry on one hand. This is a shocking scene.

    “What's wrong?” I ask. Zayn shakes his head and rubs the heels of his hands into his eyes.

    “Poor lad tried to get with that chick he brought up. Think he had too much to drink though. We're having trouble in the sexual functioning department,” Niall giggles. Zayn is on his feet in one swift motion and grabs a fist full of Niall’s shirt from across the bar.

    “I'm fucking sober, you twat,” Zayn shouts. Niall’s eyes widen and he cowers a bit. I pry Zayn’s fingers apart and tell Niall to go sit on the couch. Harry staggers after him and the two topple into the cushions, Harry's curls bouncing around.  _ Good lord _ . Then I turn my attention on Zayn.

    “You,” I say, jabbing a finger into his chest, “are coming with me. We are fixing this once and for all.”

    “There's nothing to fix. I'm fine,” Zayn argues. I pull him along behind me.

    “The fuck there's not. You are not fine. Quit the bullshit, yeah? The two of you are ridiculous,” I shout. I drag Zayn down the hall, open the door to the room where Liam is, and shove Zayn inside.

    “Louis,” Liam says, starting to protest. But I hold my hands up to stop him.

    “No. Sort yourselves out. You're acting like children,” I tell them. Then I slam the door shut. They just need good makeup sex and to put this silliness behind them. I'm walking back to our room when my phone buzzes.

**Hazza ♡: Loooooo. In drink. Beef to go gomr.**

_ Oh jesus. He's gone. _

    I re enter the room and come face to face with a very drunk, curly haired boy with dimples to die for.

    “Alright. We're going home. I'll come back for the others later,” I tell him. Harry smiles dopily and throws himself into my arms. I catch him just in time.

    “I love you, Loooo. Hey that rhymes, doesn't it. I think it does. Does it rhyme, Lou?” Harry slurs. I shake my head.  _ Getting him out of here is going to be quite the feat. _ I go to answer him but Harry has closed his eyes and is nuzzling into my neck.  _ Oh boy. Why does he have to smell so nice? _

    “Nialler, are you ready? Harry's toast and I gotta get him home,” I say. Niall nods enthusiastically.

    “Can I sleep at your place?” he asks, a smile plastered to his face. It's incredibly difficult to deny him anything.

    “Sure. Just help me get Harry down to the car, yeah?” I ask. As we move towards the door, I realize just how difficult this is going to be. I definitely can't lift him and it would be pretty obvious how drunk he is if it takes me and Niall to get him down to the valet. Paps will have a field day. I hand Harry off to Niall and tell them I'll be right back. I jog down to the lower half of the club to find the bouncer that gave me a hard time. Despite him being an ass, he can definitely lift Harry. And it would behoove him to help.

    “What do you want now?” he asks when I've finally found him. I pull a hundred dollar bill from my wallet and shove it to him. He lifts an eyebrow, clearly waiting.

    “I need your help.”

  
  


    It takes no time at all for the bouncer, (who I discover is named Blake), to get Harry downstairs and out a back door to the car. I honestly don't think anyone noticed it was us. Under the disguise of oversized sweatshirts loaned to us from Blake, we seem to have gotten out incognito.

    “Thank you. You have no idea how much you've saved us. We've gotten ourselves into enough trouble. We really didn't need this,” I say. I look to Harry who's snoozing in the back seat, his head heavy on Niall’s shoulder. I laugh as Niall struggles to get Blake's sweatshirt off of Harry. When he's through, I had his as well as mine back to Blake.

    “No worries. It happens more often than you might think. We've all gotten pretty good at escape plans,” Blake laughs. Maybe this guy isn't so bad. I give him the hundred dollar bill and shake his hand.

    “Have a good night, mate,” I tell him. He waves his goodbye and disappears back inside the darkness of the club.

  
  


    “Harry, you may eat healthy, but you weigh a ton,” I grunt, trying to maneuver the taller boy up our front steps. I'm silently cursing us for buying a house with so many stairs.

    “M’sorry, Lou,” Harry mumbles. I hush him and tell him he's fine. But he apologizes again.

    “You're fine, love. No need to apologize,” I tell him softly. He opens his mouth again and I expect him to apologize more but instead, he vomits all over himself, me, and the front steps.  _ Fantastic _ .

    “M’sorry,” he says again. Ah. Now it makes sense.

    “Yeah, I know. Any more to get rid of before we go inside?” I ask. I fumble with my keys, trying to find the right one.

    “Yeah,” Harry manages before upchucking into the bushes beside our door. I'd like to say I'm repulsed by this. But the truth is Harry turns into a big baby when he's sick so this is not the first time I've had to deal with the sick boy. Though this is the first time he's thrown up on me. I try not to think about it as I find the right key, shove it into the lock, and push our door open.

    “Niall, you go in and get settled on the couch,” I instruct. Niall slips past me and goes straight for the kitchen. I'm about to yell at him to just go to bed when I see him head over to the couch, a large empty plastic bowl in his hands.  _ If he throws up on my carpet, I'll kill him. _

    “Lou, you're covered,” Harry comments. I look down and he's right. The two of us are covered. I wrinkle my nose and help guide Harry inside.

    “Yep, thanks to you. We're going upstairs, showers, and then bed,” I tell him. Harry puts up no fight and actually gets up the stairs with little help. He gets all the way to the bathroom before he has to sit down. He plops down onto the toilet seat and whines. He lifts his arms above his head.

    “Oi. What are you? Five?” I laugh. Harry giggles as I turn on the shower and then carefully pull the gross shirt off his body. I manage to get it off without getting any vomit in his hair. Next, I help him out of the jeans that are so tight, they seem to be painted on. When he's just in his underwear, I feel my face get hot. I turn around and inspect my own clothing. It seems the only soiled clothing is my shirt . I pull it off, also managing to not get any in my hair, and toss it into the hamper along with Harry's clothes. I turn back and Harry is watching me. I'm suddenly glad he's plastered so he won't remember this tomorrow. Though if he wasn't so drunk, we wouldn't be in this position to begin with.

    “Next time, it's your turn to drink,” Harry informs me. I stand him up and help him keep his balance.  _ He's gonna have to shower with his underwear on. There's no way he can do this by himself and not slip and fall. _ I turn around to test the water temperature.

    “Alright, love. In you go,” I tell him. I turn back to help him in and find Harry stepping out of his underwear. I immediately pull my eyes away and ask what he's doing.

    “I can't shower with underwear on. That's just silly,” he tells me. Then Harry erupts into a fit of giggles. I shake my head and focus on helping him not fall as he steps into the water. I watch as he smiles, eyes closed, letting the water cascade down over his body. Just when I think this can't get any more uncomfortable, he moans.  _ Fuck. _

    “Think you can wash your own hair,” I ask him. Harry looks at me and pouts.

    “You do it,” he whines. I let my head fall back and sigh.  _ He's trying to kill me _ . I grab his strawberry scented shampoo and squeeze some into my hands. I make quick work of lathering it through his curls. I'm nearly finished when Harry speaks.

    “Fuck. That feels so good, Lou,” he says, his voice sounding odd. It's deeper than usual.  _ No no no. No. _ But against my better judgement, I continue massaging his scalp. The suds make it easy for my fingers to slip across his skin and through his hair. I bring my fingers to the areas right behind his ears and apply a little more pressure, rubbing small circles. Another minute or two of this and I begrudgingly pull my hands out of his hair. But Harry protests, “Please don't, stop, Louis.”

_ Harry begging me. And begging me not to stop, no less. _ Harry's words go straight to my crotch.  _ Fuuuuuuck _ .

    “I'm not your personal masseuse, Harry,” I say, trying to break the tension I'm feeling. Harry giggles and tells me he begs to differ. I tell him to turn around to wash out the shampoo. In doing so, he nearly slips and falls.

    “Lou! I'm going to fall!” Harry exclaims, grabbing onto my arms.

    “No, you're not, love. I wouldn't let that happen,” I tell him. Harry still has a nervous look on his face and refuses to let go of my arms. Before I can think twice about it, I step into the shower with Harry. I stand with my back to the wall, facing him as he stands under the water. I guide his hands to my waist, telling him to hold on while I rinse out his hair. Harry still looks unsure but does as I instruct. Then I go about rinsing his hair.

    “What would I do without you?” he asks. I meet his eyes and I feel my stomach flip over. Suddenly, Harry's eyes are totally in focus. The deep green pools seems to be staring straight into my soul.

    “Well, you'd be a very stinky lad,” I joke. I speed through rinsing his hair and then hand him his bath scrubbie. I squeeze his shower gel onto it and tell him to wash.

    “You're very bossy tonight,” Harry states. He starts washing his body, dragging the scrubbie across his chest. I watch as the suds slide down his skin. They slip farther and farther down. “I like it.”

    “What?! I ask, startled out of my thoughts by Harry's words. Harry giggles shyly.

    “I like when you're bossy,” he tells me. _ Oh. I'll show you bossy. Wait..no I won't. Oh jesus. Get your head on straight! _

    “You haven't even see bossy yet,” I tell him.  _ What the fuck was that, Tomlinson?! Shut your mouth! _ I yell at myself in my head.

    “Show me then,” Harry says. His voice is deep again. I meet his eyes and find they're an impossibly deep shade of green and framed by long, thick eyelashes. He's staring at me intently.

    “What?” I stumble. Harry drops his bath scrubbie and takes a step towards me.

    “Show me. How bossy you can be. Show me,” Harry commands.  _ What the actual fuck. _ Harry's hands come up to my chest and gently push me against the shower wall. I’m suddenly aware of how my shower-soaked jeans are sticking to my legs and they're quite uncomfortable. Again, Harry tells me to show him how bossy I can be. I panic.

    “Yeah? Back off,” I nearly shout. I push him back and step out of the shower in one quick movement. The look on Harry's face breaks me.  _ Get back in that shower, Tomlinson _ . What?  _ Get back in that shower. Don't fuck this up. No, I can't get back in. The fuck you can't. Get in! _

    I push the warring thoughts out of my head.

    “You can obviously fend for yourself now,” I say. And then I leave Harry standing in the shower, alone and looking utterly gutted. On my way out, my stomach churns as I notice that I'm not the only one who's extremely aroused.

  
  


    After an absurdly long shower, and an even quicker wanking session than earlier on in the night, I'm thoroughly exhausted. I step out of Harry's shower and quickly towel off. I go to get dressed for bed and realize that in my haste to get away from Harry, I forgot to grab clean clothes. Sighing, I walk to Harry's closet. When I pull it open, I see several of my shirts.  _ He's such a thief. _ I chuckle to myself and pull one of the plain tees off the hanger. Then I stop. I put my shirt back into the closet and select one of Harry's shirt. It's a light grey long sleeve tee. I pull it on over my head and breath deeply. Then I grab a pair of his boxers and pull those on too. The sleeves of the shirt fall past my fingertips. I wrap my arms around myself and take another deep breath. Sometimes when I'm upset, I steal Harry's shirts, put one on, and take a nap. It's comforting.

    Yawning, I pad back down the hall to my room to check on Harry. I decide that if he's already in bed, I'll just go sleep in his room. But I'm hoping he's still awake.

   I push my door open and my stomach falls. He's out cold. The sleeping boy is sprawled out on our bed. I cross the room, grab the blankets and start to pull them up. My breath catches when I realize he's put on a pair of my boxer briefs. They're tight across his body, leaving little to the imagination. I suck in a breath and pull the covers up to his chin. Then I lean down and place a kiss on his head.  _ Goodnight. I love you. _

    I awake a few hours later to sunshine streaming in through the window.  _ Why the fuck is there sun? It can't possibly be afternoon already _ . I open my eyes more and look around, confused. The sun doesn't hit my room in the morning.  _ Oh. You're not in your room. You're in Harry's. _ I try to sit up but find myself pinned down. Beside me, I'm just noticing now, is a sleeping boy with chocolate curls.  _ What? _

    “Morning, Lou,” he whispers. I fumble for words.

    “Mornin’,” is the best I can come up with. Harry has his arm draped across my chest. He tightens his hold, hugging me.

    “Thank you for taking care of me last night,” he says. I feel him look up at me. Swallowing, I turn my face to look down at him. His cheeks are flushed and sleep sticks to his features. His hair is an unruly mess. And I love it.  _ No one should look that good just waking up and hung over. _

    “No problem,” I say. I turn back to look at the ceiling. “How do you feel?”

    “Are we going to talk about it?” he asks, dodging my question. I sigh. I was quite content to stare at the dots on Harry's ceiling, relishing the moments of calm with Harry's body curled around me. We've never cuddled like this in bed before. I like it.

    “Talk about what?” I ask, feigning innocence. Harry chuckles and turns his face into my chest.

    “We could start with why we're in my room and not yours. Or with why you're wearing my shirt. And my boxers for that matter. Or should we start with the shower?” he implores.  _ So much for being so smashed he wouldn't remember _ .

    “I could ask you the same question: you're wearing my underwear,” I point out. This seems like the safest place to start. Though “safe” really isn’t the correct word.

    “I think that's rhetorical,” Harry's snorts.

    “Oh no. I think it calls for an explanation,” I say, chuckling. Harry's voice gets serious.

    “I think our reasons will match,” he says. His voice holds such conviction. The thing about sober Harry is there's no avoiding subjects. He's got this intense, laser focus that's inescapable. I'm accepting that I've been cornered.

    “Well then why are you asking?” I ask. I curse myself. My voice is breathy and conspicuously quiet. No one could have prepared for what happens next.

    It seems to all happen at the same moment in time: Harry pushes the covers away, rolls over onto my body, his hand cups my face, his lips crush to mine, my arms snake around his neck, and Niall opens the door.

    “Hey do you guys want - Whoa! Sorry!” he apologizes before closing the door again. We freeze. Harry's mouth stills against mine but he doesn't pull away. Not yet. Our eyes are glued open, staring into each other's core.  _ Oh. My. God. _

  
  
  


    “Hey, Louis. Uhm I made breakfast. Zayn and Liam are on their way over,” Niall says, barely looking up from his pancakes. I walk through the kitchen and put a kettle on for tea. Out of habit, I boil enough water for me and Harry.

    “Thanks, Nialler. Smells good,” I tell him without actually glancing over at my friend. My face is roughly a thousand degrees and I'm thankful I didn't put on a shirt. I maneuver about my kitchen in a pair of soft grey Adidas sweatpants and bare feet. This is what I typically wear in the morning, even if the guys are over, so I figured to try to pretend to be as normal as possible.

    “Yeah. Uhm. There's pancakes by the stove and plates. And eggs on the table,” he says, clearly making an attempt at small talk. I mumble a thank you, grab a pancake but forgo the plate, and join him at the table. I eat slowly, savouring the taste. Niall is a pretty good cook. Not as good as Harry, but still pretty good.  _ Harry _ . I briefly wonder where he is, and then as if on cue, he makes his entrance. My breath catches and I nearly choke on my pancake. Harry saunters into the kitchen, looking quite pleased with himself, and goes to grab something out of the fridge. He's wearing a pair of my shorts and my Doncaster Club Football hoodie.  _ What is he trying to do? Kill me?! _

  
    “Mornin’, lads,” he says cheerfully. He takes out a bottle of juice and pours two glasses. He puts the juice back, grabs the glasses, then walks to his seat at our table. He smirks at me as he walks by, passing me my glass before he sits down. Niall is watching the scene unfold in front of him. When he catches me looking at him, the blonde boy quickly breaks my gaze and returns to stuffing eggs and pancake into his mouth.


	3. Gatta Be You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is so short. The end just seemed like a sensible place to stop. But I'm working on editing chapter 4 now :)

**Chapter Three: It's Gatta Be You**

 

    “Wait wait wait. Go back to the part where you were fighting. You went from fighting to being best mates again? Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled. But what made you stop fighting?” Niall asks. Liam and Zayn exchange a nervous look. Then, Liam quietly grabs Zayn’s hand, lacing their fingers together.

    “Lets just say we made up,” Zayn says. Niall looks at their hands, and then between me and Harry.

    “Yeah, sure. Made up. You guys stress me out,” Niall says. He shuts himself up by eating another forkful of syrup drenched pancake. I risk a glance at Harry. He's staring at me, a strange look on his face. I can't quite place it. The kettle starts to whistle so I leave the heat of Harry's gaze to prepare our tea. When it's ready, I go back to my seat, right next to Harry, and hand him his mug.

    “Thanks, boobear,” he says. My stomach flips and I glance around at the other boys. No one's even looking at us. _Relax. It's just a nickname. They've all called you that. It doesn't mean anything._

    “So what's on the agenda today?” Liam wonders out loud. Niall shrugs his shoulders and Zayn just hums. So Liam turns to me, waiting for my answer.

    “I was going to go see a few friends. I'll be gone most of the day,” I lie. Harry looks at me quizzically. Usually, we tell each other if we'll be gone. Liam turns his attention to Harry, who's still searching my eyes for clarification.

    “And what about you, Mr. Styles,” Liam asks. Harry still holds my gaze, so I speak for him.

    “I think you said you wanted to join me, yeah?” I suggest, hoping Harry gets the hint. I see the realization flash across his face. _Good boy_ . _Wait, what? Good boy?_

    “Uuuuh yeah. Yeah I said I wanted to come, didn't I?” Harry says. His choice of words makes me nearly spit tea everywhere. This doesn't go unnoticed. Harry grins cheekily. Under the table, I feel his hand graze my leg. I try not to change my body language. Try not to let the other boys know what's happening. Try not to let Harry know this phases me. But my body betrays me. I feel my leg push into Harry's hand, as if inciting him to touch me more. He gently squeezes my thigh. _Well shit._

    “Alright. Well I guess the three of us can go do something,” Liam says, turning back to Zayn and Niall. Though I'm fairly certain Liam catches my change in demeanor. The rest of the morning is uneventful. When Harry gets up to get a plate for his breakfast, he returns and doesn't touch me again. I'm surprised by how much I dislike that. We're sitting there, having a proper breakfast with our friends, and he makes no move to touch me again. My stomach sinks a bit and suddenly, I'm not hungry. I make an excuse to leave and I find myself genuinely disappointed as I walk back up to my room. _You're fine. Go lay down, breathe. You're fine. He's probably just trying to be sneaky. He wouldn't be wearing your clothes if it was all a game. He wouldn't have kissed you if it was all a game. Oh god...that kiss._

    I manage to tuck myself back into bed before I start replaying the event in my head.

 

     _The world seemed to have stopped completely. I was aware of every point of my body that made contact with Harry. The hand that cupped my face hadn't moved. I heard Niall shut the door and Harry still didn’t move. He could’ve gotten up. Said it's all a mistake. But he didn't. He just stayed there, straddling my hips. Quite possibly the hottest and most awkward moment of my life. And it didn't help that we'd both just woken up._

_“Uhm,” I started to say. Harry blinked a few times, removed his hand from my face, and ran that same hand through my hair. I closed my eyes. I love when Harry plays with my hair._

_“Tell me to stop,” Harry said. I opened my eyes again and dove into the abyss that is his gaze._

_“No,” I said. The hands that had fallen away from him when Niall entered then felt their way back up Harry's arms, coming to rest on his neck. I twisted some of his hair in my fingers and pulled him down to me. And thus began the most intense snogging session I'd ever experienced._

 

    With the memory fresh in my mind, I pull my sweatpants down and start stroking myself. Yet again, it takes an embarrassingly short period of time before I'm sucking in a sharp breath, gripping the bedsheets, and swearing as I find my release. The orgasm rolls through my body in waves. My abdominal muscles twitch, making me curl up. I'm surprised by the small whimpering sounds that leave my mouth. I'm not usually one to make sounds.

    When it's over, I'm totally spent. My breathing slowly returns to normal. I lay there for a moment, collecting myself before I attempt to stand. A strange sound makes me jump nearly out of my skin. My eyes snap open and I see Harry leaning against the door. _Fuck. It's gatta be you, doesn't it? Can't be Niall or Zayn or Liam. Has to be Harry._

    “Hey! Privacy, huh?!” I shout at him. I grab a pillow and cram it into my lap. I look down to make sure I'm covered and see that my stomach and chest are completely covered in my cum. _Wonderful._ Harry also notices this because he shakes his head, walks into the bathroom, and comes back with a damp cloth. He drops it on my chest, chuckling.

    “So now seems like a good time to have that talk, huh mate?” Harry laughs. I watch as he walks to the bench at the foot of our bed and sits down. He pulls his legs up underneath him and settles in like he's really ready to have it out.

    “Can it wait until I'm decent?” I ask. I try to sound annoyed but I fail. Harry cocks his head to the side, (in quite an annoyingly cute way), and gives me an amused look.

    “By the way you were just moaning my name as you came all over yourself, I'm going to hazard a guess that we're beyond being shy,” he says, smiling at me. Again, he looks quite pleased with himself. _I didn't. I can't have moaned his name. No way._ The expression on Harry's face tells a different story though. Drunk Harry is not subtle. He’s painfully honest and quickly turns into a dopey, silly mess. Sober Harry, however, is bold and daring. He's a challenge for me. And a weakness.

    “Fuck,” I breath. It's about all I can think to say. How does one respond to that anyways?

    “I don't think we're there yet, love,” Harry says, wagging his eyebrows at me.

    “How can you joke at a time like this?!” I shout at him. Harry cringes at the volume of my voice and I immediately apologize.

    “Listen, Lou. I don't particularly care to talk about this. But I know you will over analyze it to death. So let's talk about it,” he says. He rests his elbows on his knees and watches me, waiting.

    “What do you mean you don't want to talk about it,” I ask. _How can he not want to talk about this?!_

    “I don't think there's anything for me to say that you don't already know,” he says. I watch as he picks at his nails before he continues, “unless you don't feel the same, that is.”

    “How do you feel?” I ask. I know it's a stupid question but I need to hear him say it. I need to hear the words. _Tell me you like me, Harry. Tell me you like me._

    Harry glances down at a frayed string coming from the hoodie of mine that he's still wearing. The words tumble out of his mouth and I nearly combust.

  
    “I'm in love with you, Louis.”


	4. No Control

**Chapter Four: No Control**

    “I'm completely, head-over-heels in love with you,” he says. My stomach that was previously full of butterflies is now a mess and my heart might burst with happiness. But can my mouth express that? Of course not.

    “Why?” I ask.  _ Louis! What the fuck?! Say it back you wanker! _

    “Why? How could I not? You're my best friend. We've been through some of the craziest times of our lives together. Somehow, even after all the bullshit and never ending drama, it's still Harry and Louis against the world. I love that. You take care of me,” he says. I can feel tears welling up in my eyes.

    “You take care of me too,” I tell him. Harry shakes his head to argue but I don't let him. “No, Harry. You do. In ways that you can't even imagine. Sure you cook and clean and basically keep this place running. But you also take it upon yourself to protect me. Don't think for a second that I don't notice. The way you hold onto my jacket or backpack when we go through crowded airports. Or how you always give me blankets to hide in when we watch those awful horror movies you love. And sleeping with me? You deal with all my emotional bullshit baggage and wake me up from the nightmares and sing me back to sleep. I might take care of you but you literally hold me together.”

    We sit there, staring at each other. All of these things, finally said out loud, and now silence. But it's a comfortable silence, surprisingly. Like we're just sitting there, basking in the words.

    “So what now?” Harry asks. He suddenly looks very shy. Like this question is complicated. I lean forward, grab him by front of my sweatshirt, and pull him towards me.

    “Now you kiss me.”

  
  


    After an unknown amount of time passes, we finally fall back into our pillows, giggling.

    “Who knew snogging could be that intense,” Harry laughs. I laugh with him and then pull him to my chest. Harry's arms slip around my waist. I smile as I feel him relax into my body. I could stay right here and never move again. But I'm painfully aware of my erection straining against the thin boxers. It's funny how in the moment, when I demanded that Harry kiss me, I didn't care about my lack of clothes. I was relieved when he didn't appear offended when I'd paused the make out session to slip his boxers back on. In fact, he'd seemed to relax.

    I kiss the top of his head and smile at the thought of us being on the same page.  _ We're doing this. It's a thing. But we're not THERE yet. _

    “I expected as much with you, Hazza. But uh...I actually need to get up,” I admit. Harry looks up at me and pouts. “I'm sorry, babe. But things got a little tight. And they're not going to get any better if we keep laying here like this.”

    Harry looks at me with questions in his eyes for a moment before it clicks.

    “Oh,” he chuckles. But rather than move, be snuggles in closer to me and starts playing footsies with me under the blankets.

    “That’s definitely not helping, baby,” I tell him. I like that the pet names come so easily. Like it always should have been like this.

    “I could help,” Harry says, not lifting his head from its comfortable spot on my chest. For the umpteenth time today, my stomach flips.

    “Oh?” Apparently it’s my turn for the one word answer. Harry nods against my chest. Then, very slowly, his hand travels from my side to the center of my chest. And then it travels south. Farther and farther. Until it stops at the waistband of my boxers. His boxers.  _ The _ boxers. His hand stays there.

    “Keep going,” I tell him. My voice has changed. It’s husky and breathy and completely out of my control. I feel Harry shift and my breath immediately catches.

    “Relax, Lou. Breathe,” Harry chuckles. Something deep in my belly stirs and before I know it, I change.

    “You said you like bossy. This is me being bossy. Keep going,” I instruct. We meet eyes and I find Harry’s pupils are wide with desire. Without breaking eye contact, Harry’s hand slowly dips under the waistband. He’s moving too slowly. I grab his hand and gently, but firmly, push it down. His fingers connect with my erection and I nearly die right there. And then there’s a knock.

    “Louis? You mom is on the phone!” Niall shouts from outside our door.  _ What the fuck. _ I take Harry’s hand out of my boxers, throw the covers off, and storm off towards the door. I rip the door open and grab Niall’s shirt. I start to drag him away.

    “Louis, go easy!” Harry shouts at me. I pause, take a few steps back, and peer into our room.

    “You stay right there. Do not get out of our bed,” I shout back. Harry’s face breaks into a ridiculous grin. I just said “our bed”. With Niall right here. _ Had to happen sometime, Tommo. Oh well. _

    “I can walk on my own, Lou,” Niall says, trying to wiggle out of my grasp. He pushes the phone towards me but I bat it away. I drag Niall all the way downstairs and into the living room, much to the surprise of Liam and Zayn.

    “All of you, get out,” I say, trying to keep my cool. To say that Liam and Zayn are shocked is an understatement.

    “Everything alright?” Liam asks. Concern is heavily etched into his features. I take a deep breath.

    “It will be once you all get out,” I breathe. Liam doesn't move.

    “Mate, you look pissed. What's wrong?” Zayn asks. I let out a frustrated yell.

    “What's wrong is I'm trying to fuck my boyfriend and people keep interrupting!” I shout at them. Everyone's jaws hit the floor, including mine. Liam recovers the quickest though, smiling.

    “It's about fucking time. Alright boys, let's clear out,” Liam says quickly. He grabs Zayn by the hand and Niall by the shirt, ushering them towards the door. They all mutter a goodbye before the door shuts, leaving me to the amazement of the words that just came out of my mouth.

    “Boyfriend, huh?” Harry asks from behind me. Before I even turn, I can hear the amusement in his voice. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose, slowly turning to face him. Harry's standing on the bottom stair, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. His hair is a wonderful mess and his lips still look swollen. It's quite the sight.

    “I told you to stay in bed,” I say. Harry smirks at me. “You think I'm kidding? I said to stay in bed.”

    “This is more dominant than bossy,” Harry says pointedly. His eyes are dancing with play.

    “Is it a problem?” I ask. I still haven't moved from my spot.

    “Not even a little bit,” he breathes.  _ What is happening? Don't think...just do it. _

    “Then go back to bed,” I instruct. Harry's deep green eyes are burning into mine, captivating me in a way that I can't explain.

    “Yes, sir.”

    And that was it. Harry now held everything. All the power. He probably didn't even realize it. But here I am...powerless to the beautiful man in front of me. And that's it. No control.

  
  
  


    “I don't want to stop,” Harry says, breathing heavy. I grip his hips tightly and push my groin up towards his. He moans.

    “I know. But I don't have anything for prep,” I tell him. Then it occurs to me that I don't even know how that would work. Like...who goes where? Either Harry can read my mind or he's just got impeccable timing and starts that awkward conversation right up.

    “I do,” he says. My eyes go wide and Harry chuckles. “We don't have to if you don't want. It's just...well just so you know.”

    “Uhm. I want to. Definitely. But...are we ready for that?” I ask. Suddenly, I'm extremely nervous.  _ Would I let him fuck me? Of course you would. You'd do anything for that boy. _

    “I've been ready for awhile. Not that I mean I've been like ready for just anyone. Just you. Anyone else freaks me out. It's just you, Lou,” Harry rambles. I laugh and grab a fistful of his hair, gently dragging him down to kiss me. Harry instantly relaxes into me. But just as quickly as we relax, Harry pulls away and jumps out of bed.

    “Where are you going?!” I protest. Harry giggles and looks at me lovingly. I can't help but stare at the lovely boy who's standing in the middle of our bedroom, curls a right mess, and staring back at me with the same dopey expression.

    “Shush,” he says, holding a finger to his lips. I let out an exaggerated sigh and fall back into the pillows. Harry disappears into our bathroom and reappears not more than a few moments later. He tosses something onto the bed next to me.

    “What's this?” I ask. I pick it up and nearly faint. Flavoured lube.

    “What does it look like?” Harry drawls. His voice has dropped to a husky tone and if I were standing, I’d probably fall.  _ Lord, what does this boy to me? _

__ “Uhm. It looks like trouble. And fun,” I say, hoping that my voice doesn't sound as terrified as I feel.

    “It's fun. It gets warm too. And it's easy to clean up,” he explains. Harry climbs over me and settles back into his side of the bed. I'm at a total lost for words. When I finally find my voice, I can't even form a coherent thought.

    “Have you...how do you...what are we...can we...how...who’s...jesus,” I say, not able to even construct an intelligible sentence. Harry, ever the saviour of the day, takes over.

    “Yes, I have used it. It's not that hard or as terrifying as it seems. We are doing whatever you're comfortable with. Yes, whatever it is, we can. How? Very carefully. And slowly. Who's doing what? I hope we're on the same page with that one,” Harry says softly, answering nearly all of my questions.  _ How is he able to get inside my head like that? _

    “And what page is that?” I ask. It's really the last question I have: who's doing what?  _ Would we switch? What if we both like the same thing? What if neither of us likes...receiving? Why is this so damn complicated? Because it's sex, you idiot. And sex with someone you love.  _ Wait. That's it.  _ This is sex with someone you love. Don't stress it _ .

    “Louis, look at me,” Harry says. The soft pads of his fingers touch my face, turning me to look at him. He softly kisses me. It's full of passion that I wasn't expecting. My arms curl around him, holding him securely against my body.

    “Can we just stay here? Like this? Doing just this?” I ask when we come up for air. Harry smiles sweetly.

  
    “Of course, my love,” he whispers. And then we kiss again.


	5. What Makes You Beautiful

**Chapter Five: What Makes You Beautiful**

 

    We lay in bed for a ridiculous amount of time and I only get up when I decide I'm starving. I don't bother to put clothes on - I think we're officially at that comfort zone now - and walk down to the kitchen. I shake out my hair which is still damp from my shower. I left Harry snoozing in our bed to shower and returned to find him out cold.

    I stand in front of the pantry, trying to settle on sustenance. On the counter, my phone starts to buzz. I look and feel my stomach twist. It's my mom. Again. I can't avoid this forever so I slide the icon to accept the call.

    “Hey, mum,” I greet her.

    “Louis Tomlinson,” she says through what I imagine is gritted teeth. I flinch.

    “Uhm yep...that's me,” I say attempting a joke.

    “Don't sass me. Do you care to tell me about the conversation I overheard earlier? And why on Earth would you talk to your friends like that?! Did I not teach you any manners?” she fires at me. I don't even know where to start. So I start with the easiest.

    “The lads know I was just playing around. I wasn't actually mad,” I lie. She doesn't buy it.

    “I'm going tell you this once and only once: do not lie to me. If you don't want to tell me, fine. But don't you dare lie to me, Louis,” she says. I instantly feel awful.

    “I'm sorry, mum. I'm not really sure what you want me to say here,” I admit. I hear her sigh on the other end.

    “I don't want you to tell me what you think I want to hear. I want to know what's going on in your life, baby. Please...please tell me it's Harry,” she begs. I nearly drop my phone.

    “What?” I ask, impressed with myself that I can talk at all.

    “Your boyfriend. Please tell me it's Harry,” she clarifies. She never ceases to amaze me.

    “Uhm...yeah, mum. It's Harry. But how did you know?” I question. It can't have been that obvious, right?

    “Oh, baby. I'm your mum. I know everything,” she laughs. I roll my eyes but I don't fight her on it. All growing up, she had this uncanny knack of knowing exactly what I did before I confessed. And I truly believe she only asked me questions that she already knew the answer to. Like she was giving me the opportunity to be honest. Much like what just happened.

    “So you're not mad?” I ask hesitantly. I hear her tsk at me and sigh.

    “If you think I could ever be mad at you for just being who you are, then I obviously did not hug you enough as a child,” she jokes. “I love you, Louis. Regardless of who you are, what you do, who you love...I love you.”

    “I love you too, mum,” I tell her. I feel tears welling up in my eyes. I don't know what I'd without this amazing woman in my life.

    “Lou? Are you down there?” Harry shouts from the top of the stairs. He sounds panicked. I tell my mom to hold on and I bolt to the stairs.

    “Yeah, babe. What's wrong?” I ask. Harry is standing at the top but comes down when he sees me.

    “Nothing. You were just gone when I woke up. Wanted to make sure you were okay,” he says. Harry reaches the bottom of the stairs and immediately pulls me to his chest. I like that I fit to him perfectly.

    “I love you, Hazza,” I tell him. Harry cradles my face in his hands and kisses me sweetly.

    “I love you, too, Boobear,” he says. I blush at the nickname. “Oh fuck. My mum is on the phone.”

    I go back to the phone and hear her laughing on the other end. I tell her to knock it off but, of course, she just laughs harder.

    “The two of you are just adorable. I'll let you go. Tell Harry I said hello. Love you both,” she says. I tell her we love her too and then the line cuts out.

    “My mum says ‘hello’. And she loves us,” I tell him. Harry's smile gets even brighter.

    “Does she know?” he asks excitedly. I nod my head.

    “Yes. In fact, thanks to Niall, she overheard that earlier when he had my phone. Well, she heard that I said ‘boyfriend’. And she called and legitimately asked if it was you. She practically begged me to tell her it was you,” I tell him, feeling myself smile. Harry can't possibly smile any wider. The dimples kill me.

    “Can we go back upstairs, please?” he asks.

    “How can you still have energy?! I'm exhausted!” I laugh. I think about the last few hours and shake my head, smiling.

 

_ “Can we just stay here? Like this? Doing just this?” I ask when we come up for air. Harry smiles sweetly. _

_     “Of course, my love,” he whispers. And then we kiss again. It's a slow and passionate kiss. But as it happens, the voices in my head start a war.  _ What are you doing, Tomlinson?! He brought you lube! Yeah but maybe he's not ready either. Maybe we're both not ready. Oh he's definitely ready. He. Brought. You. Lube.

_     “Harry…,” I start, but my voice trails off when Harry begins kissing my neck. I hum in appreciation and tilt my head back, giving him more access. He takes it immediately and starts sucking a mark onto my skin. _

_     “You were saying?” Harry asks, briefly taking his lips away. _

_     “Don't stop,” I whine. Harry chuckles and resumes. Between the licking, biting, and tiny kisses, I feel as if I'm about to burst. _

_     “I like when you tell me what to do,” Harry says.  _ That's it.

_ “Yeah? Good. Blow me,” I said.  _ Atta boy, Tommo. Wait. What?! What did you say? Nope...this is good. This is good.

_     Harry doesn't move. I can feel him staring at me, but I don't meet his eyes. I just keep staring at the ceiling above me. I figure this is the defining moment. So here goes nothing. Or everything. Depends on what way you look at it. I breath in slightly and say, “I said ‘blow me’, Harry. Do you need an instruction manual?” _

_     That last bit was probably not necessary. It just came out. I briefly wonder if that was too much. _

_     “No, sir,” Harry says. And then his mouth is on my cock. I nearly fall apart on contact. _

 

__ “Seems like part of you still has the energy,” Harry says, shaking me from my thoughts. He's looking at my erection and then drags his eyes back up to mine. He's looking at me like I'm his prey.  _ Fuck. _ I don't protest. I don't argue. I grab his hand and lead him back to our bedroom.

 

    When we get upstairs, Harry practically skips over to his side of the bed. He climbs up and sits there, looking at me very expectantly. Then, I have an idea.

    “Harry, do you trust me?” I ask. His adorable curly head cocks to one side like it's the most ridiculous question he's ever heard.

    “Of course I do,” he says.

    “I know you trust me. But do you trust me in here? In our bedroom?” I clarify. The recognition flashes over Harry's features and his look becomes serious. He appears to ponder the idea for a moment before answering.

    “Yes. I trust you,” he tells me. I can see it in his eyes that he's telling the truth. I walk over to the closet and open it, searching for particular items. One thing I've learned about Harry today is that he's very squirmy. Especially when he's turned on. It's like he can't sit still. Or lay still.

    “Ah ha,” I say once I've found them. I pull out two neck ties. I show them to Harry and ask, “Do you know what these are for?” Harry grins cheekily.

    “For your neck,” he says.  _ Tsk tsk, Styles _ .

    “Your sass is going to get you into trouble,” I warn. But he keeps at it.

    “My  _ ass _ ? I thought you liked my ass,” he jokes. I cross the room, crawl on top of Harry, and come face to face with him. Our noses are almost touching.

    “Your ass...is mine. Your sass, however, is going to get you into trouble. These are for your hands because you move too much,” I explain. Harry's eyes are wide with desire and I watch as he licks his lips. Gently, I push Harry onto his back and grab his left hand. I slip one of the silk ties around his wrist securely but not too tight. Then, I thread the other end through the intricate iron work of our headboard. Who knew the ridiculously expensive and seemingly useless accessory would be so helpful.

    “I'm nervous,” Harry admits as I start securing his right wrist. I pause to look at him.

    “Do you want me to only tie one?” I ask. Harry shakes his head immediately.

    “No. I want to do this. I just...wanted to tell you I'm nervous,” he says. His beautiful green eyes hold my gaze. I lean down and softly kiss Harry's forehead.

    “I'm going to tie them both. If you decide you're done, just tell me,” I explain. I know Harry can do this. It seems daunting because he doesn't know what's coming.

    “Like a safe word?” Harry asks, effectively making my jaw drop.

    “Uhm. I guess so. I promise you this won't be a ‘safe word’ situation though. You're not being punished,” I tell him. Harry nods and watches as I tie his right wrist above his head.

    “I like this,” he tells me, testing out the grip. He smiles when he finds he can't get out of the restraints.

    “Good. I do too,” I smile. I can feel my heart rate picking up. He looks good like this. Restrained...completely giving up his power.  _ He must really trust me _ .

    “Are we going to use red and yellow?” he asks.

    “Is that what you want to use? They're your words so you can pick what you'd like,” I offer. Harry seems to think about this for a moment before deciding that red and yellow are good for now.

    “I may change it later,” the curly haired boy informs me. I can't help but laugh. He went from being nervous to carrying on a completely normal conversation about safe words.

    “Alright. Enough talking,” I say. Harry catches his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to suppress the smile. I make quick work of pulling my boxer briefs off of Harry's muscular legs. I'm thrilled to see he's rock hard.

    “Always so ready for me,” I say. Harry giggles and scoots towards me a bit. I tell him not to move and Harry immediately freezes. I think back to when Harry's mouth descended on my cock, trying to remember what he did. I'm attempting not to look nervous myself but I feel like I'm probably failing.

    “Don't worry. It's not as difficult as it seems,” Harry says, once again getting in my head.

    “Not worried. Though your mouth is stressing me out. Don't make me gag you,” I threaten. Harry's eyes nearly burst out of his head.

    “Sorry, sir,” he squeaks. It's strange to hear him call me “sir”. But I think I like it. I glance down at my raging hard on. No...I definitely like it.

  
  
  


    “That has to be the best blow job I've ever gotten,” Harry pants. The salty taste of his cum lingers in my mouth and I'm secretly proud of myself.  _ You did it, Tommo. Nice work. _

    “You're welcome,” I say smugly. The boost of confidence is great. I feel like I'm on cloud nine. Lazily, I roll one of the ties back and forth between my fingers. Harry definitely liked that. Even as I'd untied him, he'd reiterated how much he liked it.

    As I lay there, basking in the warmth of Harry's body next to me, I think  _ I could stay here forever. Right here with this man. _ But all good things must come to an end.

    “We need to go grocery shopping today, baby,” Harry says. I feel him move next to me but instead of getting up, he cuddles closer into my side.

    “Ugh. Why don't we have help to do that?” I ask, my fingers drift through his thick chocolate hair. 

    “Because we decided early on that we weren't going to be  _ those  _ celebrities,” he laughs. I sigh.

 

 

    It's another half hour before we get up, shower, and get dressed. I wanted to shower with Harry, not wanting to be away from him, but Harry made a compelling argument: if we showered together, we'd just end up back in bed again.

    We met downstairs in the living room. Harry came bouncing down the stairs and pulled me into his arms, kissing me. But he had pulled away quickly, frowning.

    “You used my shampoo,” he states, pouting. I raise an eyebrow at him.

    “You're going to complain about that now? I think we're past the sharing milestone of our relationship,” I say, poking fun at him. Harry rolls his eyes and playfully shoves my chest.

    “That's not what I meant, you tosser. I meant that now you smell like me. I like when you smell like you. You smell good,” he says. Now it's my turn to roll my eyes.

    “You're too cute.”

  
  
  


    “Tommo! You're alive,” Liam shouts into the phone. I can't help but laugh. It's been a full day since Harry and I have returned any texts or phone calls. I figured we couldn't hide away in our bedroom forever though. So I decided to take my morning tea and go sit on the deck to call Liam.

    “Yes, yes. I'm alive. How are things?” I ask. I sip my tea and smile. Harry always makes me tea in the morning. Even before we were officially “together”. It's a small thing he's always done and I love it.

    “Good. Really good actually. Zayn is...well Zayn is Zayn. But coming round,” Liam says. When I don't say anything, he continues, “I think it's strange for him to be honest for once about what he wants.”

    “That makes sense. Remember to give him time, Li. He's not as open and outgoing as you are,” I remind him.

    “I know. I'm just glad it's happening. I've been waiting for this for a long time,” Liam admits. For some reason, this surprises me.

    “How long exactly,” I ask. I can picture a light blush spreading across Liam’s cheeks.

    “Since the X Factor days,” he says.  _ Wow. Just as long as I've been waiting for Harry. _

    “Wow. That's a long time,” I say, staring out across our back yard. There's a pair of Harry's jeans in the grass and I wonder briefly how they got there.

    “Well I expect you feel my pain, yeah?” Liam laughs.

    “What do you mean?” I ask for clarification. Liam laughs again.

    “How long you been pining over those dimples, hmmm?” Liam asks, giggling. He's got a point.

    “So have you heard from Niall?” I ask, changing the subject.

    “Nice diversion, Lou. And no, I haven't heard from him. He was grumbling about being the only single one. Lad needs a girl,” Liam says. I can practically hear the gears turning in Liam’s head, preparing to play matchmaker.

    “I don’t think there’s a girl on this planet good enough for our Niall,” I say honestly. Niall is one of the few guys I know that I can trust with absolutely anything. I mean, I trust the whole band. We’re a pretty close knit group. But years from now, maybe if we’ve all gone our separate ways, I think Niall will still maintain touch with each of us and continue to be our best friend.

    “That may be so. But I think he’s lonely. If nothing else, he could use a friend outside of us,” Liam concludes. This, I definitely agree with.

  
  
  


    “Harry!” I shout from the kitchen. I can see the top of his curls over the back of the couch. He twists around to look at me, but I can only see his eyes.

    “That’s your ‘Harry’s in trouble’ voice. What did I do?” he asks. I hold up a jar of tomato sauce. Harry sinks down a little farther into the couch. “I just wanted to try it.”

    “That’s fine. But that’s the ONLY sauce you bought, Haz. What if we don’t like it? What if the guys don't like it. They're going to be here within the hour for dinner and this is the only sauce we have. Florentine spinach and cheese? Really?” I ask, shaking my head at him. Harry hides in the couch.

    “Are you mad?” he asks. I nearly drop the jar of sauce. I quickly put it on the counter and dash into the living room. Harry is sulking on the couch and looks like he’s about to cry.  _ Good job, Tommo. _

    “Oh baby. I’m not mad,” I tell him. I gently pull him into my chest. “I could never be mad at you.”

    “You get mad when I put veggies in your smoothies,” Harry says pointedly. I sigh.

    “First of all, I don’t get mad when you do that. I know you’re trying to make me eat healthier. Secondly, veggies do not belong in smoothies,” I retort. Harry looks up at me and grins. “You are so breathtakingly beautiful.”

    “I am not,” Harry argues. I use one of my hands to cup his cheek, rubbing my thumb over his soft skin.

    “Yes you are. You’re beautiful inside and out. The way you take care of me. The way you take care of our friends. The way you defend me and support me. All those things. That’s what makes you beautiful,” I tell him. Harry doesn’t argue this time. Instead, he snuggles his face into my chest.

    “I see what you did there,” he giggles. I picture Harry rolling his eyes at me the way he does when he thinks I'm being silly. I kiss the top of his head and sigh. Before I know it, we fall asleep. 

  
  


    “Alright, love birds. Time to get up!”

    I groan and crack open my eyes. Somehow in our sleep, Harry and I have managed to move. Now, I'm settled almost completely on top of him. I'm laying between his legs with my torso curled into his chest. Harry's arms grip me in a protective way. I like it.

    “Wakey wakey.”

    I look up and find our three friends staring at us and laughing. Niall flops onto the other end of the couch and turns on the tv.

    “Babe,” I say, poking Harry in the chest.

    “Not now, love,” Harry mumbles. His voice is thick with sleep and it's honestly quite cute. Breaks my heart to wake him up.

    “It's time to get up. I'm hungry,” I tell him. I start to sit up but Harry pulls me back down, guiding me towards his hips.

    “Yeah? Then blow me. That's protein, right?” Harry says seductively, still not opening his eyes. I immediately smack his chest.

    “Harold! Do you mind?” I hiss. Harry bats my hands away.

    “If I piss you off enough, will you spank me?” Harry asks, chuckling to himself. Liam, Zayn, and Niall erupt in fits of laughter. Suddenly, Harry's eyes fly open.

    “You are something else,” I grumble. Liam is laughing so hard that he has to wipe tears from his eyes.

    “Didn't peg you as the submissive one, Haz,” Zayn laughs. Harry's face turns a deep shade of red.

    “Alright alright. Enough,” I say, scowling at our friends. 

    “So much for cooking, huh guys?” Niall says, gesturing towards the empty kitchen.  _ Shit. We fell asleep before we could make dinner. _

    “Can we just order in?” Liam asks. We all agree and settle into our usual places on the couch. Except we don't actually. Normally, Niall sits between Zayn and Liam. But now, Niall and Zayn are arguing over where to sit.

    “But that's your spot, Nialler,” Zayn protests, trying to sit on the end in his usual place. Niall grabs Zayn’s arm and shakes his head.

    “Oh no no. I am not sitting between the two of you,” Niall says, pointing between Liam and Zayn. “And I'm not sitting between you two and Lou and Harry. No thanks. I'm sitting on the end. Or in my chair.”

    “Oh it's your chair now?” Harry asks, smiling. Niall nods.

    “I'm the only one who ever sits in it. So yeah. My chair,” he decides. Niall gets into “his chair” and makes himself comfortable. He flips through the channels until he finds a football game. I think about pointing out that it's actually my chair. That's where I sit when I'm trying to write. It has a view of the back yard, I can see into the kitchen, and it's next to a small table which is where I usually place my tea. Or my beer.

    “What do we want to order then?” Harry asks. In unison, we all answer, “Chinese.”

  
  
  


    “I still say this is the best takeout in the city,” Niall says around a mouthful of food. He's busy mowing down on an eggroll. I can't really contest. The tiny Chinese place is just inside the city and will always deliver to us. The food is pretty good as far as “shitty Chinese food” goes, it's cheap, and the delivery drivers either don't know who we are or don't care.

    “You've said that about a few places. Like the Thai place last week. And that French bistro down the street from the studio,” Zayn says. It's true that Niall is pretty easy to please when it comes to food.

    “Yeah. But this is the only place that has never screwed up our order,” Niall insists.

    “He's got a point,” Harry says. I watch as he sticks his tongue out to catch a few stray noodles before shoving his chopsticks into his mouth.  _ His tongue. Stop it, Louis. You're eating dinner with your friends. Behave yourself.  _

    “Someone pick a movie. I'm sick of watching football,” Liam complains. Normally, Liam puts up with our football games just as much as we put up with his boxing matches. But we can only take so much before it's time for a movie.

    “I think it's Harry's turn to pick,” Zayn says. Harry's eyes light up. He puts his food down and scrambles over to our DVD collection. I can't help but laugh at him. Since the revelation of our feelings, it seems I find everything he does to be ridiculously cute.

    “Can we not watch something scary though?” Niall pleads. Harry looks up and pouts.

    “But I like scary. And you got to pick last time. That's silly one about the kid that finds out his parents are secret assassins or kidnapped him or whatever,” Harry whines.

    “Proof enough that you weren't actually watching. I explained that one but that's not even the one I picked! We watched the Avengers last time. If you stopped staring at Lou for two seconds, maybe you'd have enjoyed the movie,” Niall teases.

    “Why would I want to watch a movie when I have a masterpiece right in front of me?” Harry counters without even missing a beat. There's a collective groan and we each whip a pillow at Harry. Harry avoids three of them but mine knocks into his shoulder. He looks to me and I stick my tongue out.

    “What about something funny? Jackass?” I suggest. Harry scans the stacks of movies and pulls out my suggestion. He slips it into the DVD player and then joins me back on the couch.

    “Really?” Liam asks, shaking his head. 

    “What?” I ask, honestly not knowing what the issue is.

    “Harry hates Jackass. Any time any of us wants to watch, he puts up such a fight. But you suggest it and he complies right away,” Liam laughs. I shrug my shoulders.

    “Are you really gonna complain?” I ask, pointing to the beginning credit rolling across the screen. Liam holds his hands up in mock defeat.

  
    “No. Nope. Not at all. Carry on,” Liam smiles. He watches as Harry cuddles into my side, abandoning his food on the coffee table. Liam shakes his head again and then wraps an arm around Zayn’s shoulders. And then there's Niall who looks quite content with his plate of food.


	6. (I) Loved You First

**Chapter Six: (I) Loved You First**   
  


    Settled into our living room, surrounded by our friends, I was content. I had so much to be thankful for. I had everything I could possibly need right here. I was so happy and relaxed, I almost didn't hear my phone buzzing next to me. I grabbed it and my stomach dropped. 

    “Carl,” I greeted one of our managers. Carl wasn't my favourite person but he also wasn't atrocious.

    “Good evening, Louis. Do you have a minute?” he asks. I glance down at the sleeping boy curled into my side.  _ I can't possibly leave him right now _ .

    “Yeah but make it quick,” I tell him. Carl mumbles something unintelligible and then proceeds.

    “Great. Well I was just calling to let you know that James Corden has requested you and the guys make an appearance on his show,” Carl says.  _ Oh. Well that should be fun. Like actually fun. _

    “Okay great. Sounds fun. I'll pass that along to the lads,” I tell him. We exchange words over details and then the call ends. I can count the number of pleasant conversations I've had with Carl on one hand. So this was a nice surprise. 

    “Who was that?” Harry asks, his voice thick with sleep. I place a kiss in the mess of curls and hug him to me.

    “It was Carl. James Corden wants us to go on his show,” I explain. Harry hums and then seems to drift back off to sleep. I look up at the tv and it's on the menu screen. Niall is snoozing softly in “his” chair. Zayn and Liam are a mess of arms and legs and completely out cold. I chuckle to myself and let sleep wash over me once again.

 

 

 

    “Babe, we gotta Go! We're going to be late!” Harry shouts from downstairs. The truth is I'm back in bed. I'd gotten up when Harry did so we could have tea together. Then I'd done the responsible thing and showered and gotten dressed. I was ready to go. But then I laid down for just a moment. And now I'm here, laying in a rumpled mess of bed sheets. My own little cocoon of comfort.  _ Shit _ .

    “Yeah. ‘M comin’!” I shout back. Harry pushes our door open and walks in.

    “Isn't that a popular phrase these days?” Harry jokes. I grab his pillow and fling it at him. Harry catches it with ease and then falls onto the bed next to me. “We really do need to go though.”

    “Why did we agree to this appearance?” I groan. Harry's hand drifts through my hair, probably attempting to smooth the damp mess. 

    “Because we almost always say yes. Besides, we're announcing the album. That'll be fun,” Harry smiles. _ Those damn dimples. _

    “K. I'm gettin’ up,” I say, not moving. 

    “Oh sure. That's very convincing, love,” Harry laughs. Before I know what's happening, he scoops me up and starts heading for the door.

    “Oi! Do you mind. I'm quite capable of getting myself up,” I protest.

    “I know. But I like to help. It's more fun,” he states. I glare at him, unsure if he's being cute or naughty. The sexual innuendos are at an all time high. It seems ever since he embarrassed himself in front of our friends the other night, Harry has made it his life's mission to embarrass me. Unfortunately for me, he's quite good at it.

    “You better be on your best behaviour during this interview,” I warn. Harry carries me down the stairs and deposits me onto the kitchen counter.

    “Of course,” he smiles. Something about his smile tells me he doesn't intend on behaving in the least. I look down at the clothes I picked out. Plain black Adidas joggers, white and black trainers, and a white shirt I’d stolen from Harry.  _ As good as it's gonna get I suppose _ .

    “Are we doing a performance?” I ask. I grab a poptart from the box I'd left out on the counter earlier in the morning. 

    “Yeah. We're doing ‘What Makes You Beautiful’. And I’d actually really like to debut the new song,” Harry says. I pout as he takes the poptart out of my hand and replaces it with an apple. Deciding this isn't a battle I wish to fight today, I take big bite of the apple and then kiss Harry's cheek. He giggles and wipes at the juice left over from my lips. “So what do you think? About debuting the song?”

    I'd been too busy staring at Harry to hear this the first time around. 

    “I know you're excited about it but we haven't recorded it yet. It's not even done. We can't very well debut a song that none of us know, Haz,” I point out. Harry's face breaks into a huge grin.

    “But it is done,” he says. I'm about to question further when Harry grabs me under my arms, helping me down from the counter, and ushers me towards the door. I grab a black beanie from the closet on my way by. I catch a glimpse of Harry's smile as I pull it on over my hair.

  
  


 

    “Welcome, welcome. Well hello to you, boys. How are we today?” James Corden greets us. We all say we're doing great and enjoying our time off.

    “Thank you for having us on, by the way. But yeah, it's been nice to take a breath,” Liam says. He's seated next to Zayn and I'm suddenly hyper aware of everyone looking at us.  _ Can they tell? Will the audience know? _

    “Well I heard from a little bird that not all of you are actually taking a break. Am I right?” James asks, looking between all of us. Prior to going on, Harry had told James about the new song. In the front row sits Carl. He's looking at us and waving his hand back and forth in front of his neck, signaling that we can't talk about the song. It's honestly no surprise when Harry dives right in.

    “Yeah! I've been working on a new track. I honestly love it. It's coming along really well,” Harry says, all smiles.

    “Well that's very exciting. I don't suppose you could play a bit for us?” James asks. He plays it off as if this is a surprise. Little does Carl know, the lads and I sat huddled together in the dressing room that Harry and I shared and ran through the new song nearly a dozen times. It took us no time at all to nail it.

    “Actually, we can. What do you say?” Liam asks, turning to the rest of us.

    “Well sure. Don't be too harsh on us though, yeah? We've not practiced it much,” I tell the audience. They erupt in hoops and hollers, cheering us on. I honestly love our fans.

    “Well what a treat this is! Alright ladies and gents, here's One Direction with their new song!” James announces. I briefly look to Carl. He's slumped back in his seat, one hand rubbing his temple. He looks thoroughly annoyed.

    We move over to the sub stage where we'd performed “What Makes You Beautiful” just before we'd begun talking with James. But instead of standing at our designated spots, we all grab our mics, kick off our shoes, and make ourselves comfortable on the carpet. James makes a joke about us making ourselves right at home.

    “Well this is how the song was written. Cozy and comfortable in our home. It's about love and what it means to love someone for everything they are and everything they're not. So it makes the most sense to break it down simple like this,” Harry says, gesturing to the comfortable space we've created. There's a collective “aw” from the audience. And then we begin.

 

_ Your hand fits in mine like it's made just for me _ __   
_ But bear this mind it was meant to be _ __   
_ And I'm joining up the dots with the freckles on your cheeks _ _   
_ __ And it all makes sense to me

__   
_ I know you've never loved the crinkles by your eyes when you smile _ __   
_ You've never loved your stomach or your thighs _ __   
_ The dimples in your back at the bottom of your spine _ _   
_ __ But I'll love them endlessly

__   
_ I won't let these little things slip out of my mouth _ __   
_ But if I do, it's you, oh it's you, they add up to _ _   
_ __ I'm in love with you and all these little things

__   
_ You can't go to bed without a cup of tea _ __   
_ Maybe that's the reason that you talk in your sleep _ __   
_ And all those conversations are the secrets that I keep _ _   
_ __ Though it makes no sense to me

 

    After my solo section is over, I relax a bit and watch Harry. I love watching him sing. It's like nothing else in the world matters. Just him.

    Near the end though, there's a shift. Instead of singing the phrase as written, “ _ But if it's true, it's you, it's you they add up to. I'm in love with you, and all your little things _ ,” Harry goes and makes the world stop. Well at least my world anyways. Because those written words, the ones scribbled on napkins. The words we rehearsed. Those are not the words he sings.

 

_ But if it's true, it's you, it's you they add up to _ _   
_ _ I'm in love with Lou, and all his little things _

 

    My world explodes. There's a deafening applause and the audience jumps to their feet.  _ Do they know? Did they hear? Maybe they didn't notice. It's a new song. None of them know the lyrics. _

    “My my. That was beautiful. I think this is going to be the next big hit from you, yeah?” James says as he corrals us back to the couch.

    “We hope so. We can't wait for more fans to hear it,” Zayn says, smiling. The guys all look like they're on cloud nine.  _ Did they even notice? They had to have noticed. THEY know the lyrics. _

    “Well this is all very exciting. I'm sure everyone will be anxiously awaiting the album drop. And hopefully a tour?” James leads. The guys and I exchange a look.  _ Here it goes.  _

    “Well they won't have to wait very long. We're finishing up our new album in the next couple weeks. And then we're gonna launch our new tour,” I announce. The room explodes.

  
  
  


    “Just once. Just once! I'd love for the five of you to stick to your script!” Carl shouts. He's pacing back and forth in the conference room. After the interview, Carl dragged us all in here. We knew we were in trouble. 

    “We wanted to do it our way for once,” Liam defends. Carl whips around and glares at Liam. Then, his focus turns to Harry.

    “And you! You are going to give me an aneurysm! What the fuck was that?!” Carl berates. A vein in his neck appears to be throbbing. 

    “What?” Harry asks. He does a good job of pretending to not know what the problem is. Carl brings his hands to his face, sighs, and slowly drags his hands down.

    “You cannot tell me that the last bit of that song honestly professes your love for Louis. I know you guys love the lyric changes. But if you're going to debut a song - one that wasn't approved, might I add - you could at least debut the actual lyrics. Twitter already blows up when you guys are too close. You're not making a good case for yourselves,” Carl spits. The energy in the room has suddenly changed. Harry looks livid and Zayn’s expression is unreadable. But much to everyone's surprise, it's Niall that speaks up.

    “There's no reason to talk to us like that. We had some fun. We were honest with our fans. It's what we strive for. We don't want to pretend in front of them. Our fans are themselves around us. It's only fair that we are too,” Niall says. He actually looks angry - an emotion we rarely see from the happy go lucky guy.

    “What?” Carl asks, clearly dumbfounded. An uncomfortable silence settles over the room.

    “What?” Niall counters. He's staring Carl down and no one moves.

    “Honest about what? What are we being honest about here?” Carl questions.  _ Ah. He caught that bit. Great. _

    “The important thing is that we've promoted the song, we announced the album, and we killed that performance. And now we're leaving,” Liam decides. Daddy Direction. Ever the saviour. We all quickly file out of the room, sans Carl of course, and make a beeline for our cars. Once we're out the back door, we congregate around Harry's Range Rover.

    “Haz, a little warning would be nice,” Liam says, sighing a bit. But we all laugh anyways.

    “It wasn't planned,” Harry admits.  _ Isn't that the truth? _

    “And Niall to the rescue, huh?” Zayn says, ruffling the blonde’s hair. Niall giggles.

    “Yeah well he was being an ass. And there's no reason to talk to you guys like that,” Niall says. There's an edge to his voice like he's still annoyed with Carl.

    “Well. What now then?” I ask the group. Yet again, we're all on the same page: “Food!”

  
  
  


    “We really do owe the guys a thank you,” I say, stirring a large pot of salsa. I can't cook. I'm nearly awful at it. But Harry trusts me enough to stir things. The curly haired one is sitting cross legged on our kitchen counter, shucking fresh corn.

    “Hence why I am making dinner for everyone,” Harry says, inspecting one particular ear. He carefully picks off a stray hair.

    “Hey I'm cooking too!” I point out, gesturing to the large pot. Harry peaks up at me from under his curls.

    “You're right, Boobear. You are helping. And you're a wonderful helper,” he says, leaning forward for a kiss.

    “I usually am,” I smile. I meet him halfway, brushing my lips against his. I feel myself sigh into the tender moment, my eyes closed.

    “Love you,” Harry says when we break apart. I feel a warmth spread throughout my body. I will never get tired of those words.

    “Yes. But I loved you first,” I tell him. I run a hand through his thick hair, breathing in his scent.

    “Get a room, love birds,” Niall grunts as he walks into the kitchen. He perches himself on one of the barstools and grabs a chip. 

    “Why hello, Niall. Yes, do come right in,” I joke. I playfully punch him in the shoulder.

    “So, Nialler, we wanted to thank you,” Harry starts. Niall looks at us quizzically.

    “For wha’?” he asks, mouth full of chip.

    “For speaking up to Carl yesterday. I didn't know what to say. I don't think any of us did. But you swooped right in and saved the day,” I say, smiling at him. Niall shrugs.

    “You guys are my best mates. You'd have done the same for me,” he says simply. And he's right. There's not much I wouldn't do for these lads. Harry thanks him again, Niall brushes it off again, and then we are joined by Liam and Zayn.

    “Since when do you all just waltz in?” Harry chuckles. Finishing with the last ear of corn, he gets off the counter and stacks everything on a platter to bring outside to the grill. 

    “Uhm since always,” Liam says, giving Harry a funny look. He's got a point. I can't even remember the last time any of them knocked.

    “Alright. Well beer is in the fridge and in the cooler on the deck. I'm gonna start grilling. Tommo has the salsa. Don't worry...I made it. He's just stirring,” Harry says, playfully poking my ribs as he walks by.

    “Watch yourself. If you weren't carrying all the food, you'd be done for,” I tell him, giving him a squinty eyed look. Harry kisses my cheek and disappears onto the deck, closely followed by Liam and Niall.

    “How are you, Lou?” Zayn asks. He parks himself at the counter with me and watches as I ladle the salsa out into a large bowl.

    “Pretty good. Yourself?” I return. I grab a chip and scoop up some salsa. Popping it into my mouth, I sigh in appreciation. Harry makes the best salsa.

    “I'm alright. Still trying to navigate... _ you know _ ,” Zayn says shyly. I chuckle.

    “I take it you and Lima Bean are still at it then?” I ask. A blush whisps across Zayn’s cheeks. He smiles. “Well I'll take that as a yes.”

    “Yeah. It's still a thing,” he says quietly. He looks over his shoulder at the sound of Liam laughing outside.

    “He's waited a long time for you,” I tell him. Zayn whips his head back to me.

    “He told you that?” Zayn questions. He looks serious but there's a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

    “Yep,” I say. It's a simple statement but it seems to mean a great deal to the raven haired lad. Zayn looks back towards Liam.

    “How long?” he asks. Now it's my turn to smile.

  
    “Since the X Factor days,” I say softly. For a moment, Zayn doesn't move. Then, slowly, he stands. I watch as he stays there, gazing out the back door to where his boyfriend is huddled with Harry at the grill. Zayn brushes away at the tears that have leaked from his eyes. For a moment, I panic that I've said something wrong. But the panic is quickly squashed as I watch one of my very best mates stride across the room. He walks right out the back door, turns Liam around, and kisses him.


	7. Tell Me A Lie

**Chapter Seven: Tell Me A Lie**

 

    It's a sweet kiss. Both of them relax into it, their eyes closed. Then my eyes meet Harry's. He smiles but it's not innocent. I can see the heat framed by beautiful, long eyelashes. I look away and busy myself with dumping bags of chips into bowls and bringing them out to the deck. I set them down, not looking at anyone, and retreat back to the kitchen. I go to grab the bowl of salsa when I feel strong arms snake around my torso.

    “Hey, baby,” Harry whispers in my ear. His breath is warm and sweet against my skin. I relax into him, letting my head fall back against his chest. I hum to myself.

    “Can we take a trip?” I ask. Harry nods and nuzzles his face into my neck.

    “Yeah. Where do you wanna go? Cabo? Cannes? Sydney?” Harry rattles off the places we've been that I've liked. But I shake my head.

    “How about Texas?” I ask. I can feel Harry look down at me, probably with a confused look on his face.

    “We can go wherever you want. But why there?” Harry asks. I chuckle and spin around in his arms. I place my hands gently on his chest.

    “Because no one expects us to go to Texas. They expect the fancy places like Mexico and France. I don't want extravagance. I want a quiet weekend getaway with the love of my life,” I explain softly. Harry looks down at me, his eyes swimming with adoration.

    “Of course. When do you want to go?” he asks. He kisses my forehead.

    “Can we start packing when the lads leave?” I ask. Harry chuckles. 

    “You know, I wouldn't be opposed to just kicking the lot out now,” Harry says like he's joking. I smile and shake my head because I know he would do it if I gave the okay.

    “Don't you dare,” I say, handing the bowl of salsa over to him. Harry shrugs his shoulders and goes back out to the deck.  _ Oh that man. _

  
  


    “Haz, you've outdone yourself. Again,” Liam says, leaning back in his chair. The five of us are seated on the deck around the large table. Harry grilled steak for fajitas, grilled and then broiled Mexican street corn, made the salsa, and an assortment of grilled veggies. It was quite the spread. I even took it upon myself to make a large pitcher of margaritas. Which were pretty tasty, if I do say so myself.

    “I'm glad one of you can cook,” Zayn says, smiling devilishly at me. I roll my eyes. One time, I screwed up boiling pasta. I'll never live it down.

    “It's not like I'm completely incapable,” I whine. “I made that chicken once.” All four of them groan and start up.

    “Oh we know, we know,” they all complain. Then, they each hold up their hands, ready to assume the demonstration.

    “Chicken, stuffed with mozzarella, wrapped in a bit of Parma ham, and a homemade mash,” they say in unison. But then Harry goes on, “But not out of the box. Real homemade mashed potatoes.”

    “The four of you can shut it,” I laugh, throwing chips at them. Harry's hand settles on my thigh and squeezes gently.

    “We say it lovingly, babe,” Harry tries. I brush him off playfully. 

    “Oh sure sure,” I exaggerate, rolling my eyes. I look around the table and I'm surprised by how many empty beer bottles there are. And empty glasses that once held margaritas.

    “We put away a lot of alcohol,” I say. I don't feel drunk though. I don't even feel buzzed. But I definitely drank my fair share.

    “Yeah. I'm not driving,” Liam states. He looks over to Zayn.

    “I drank more than you did,” Zayn admits, shaking his head.

    “Sleepoverrrrrrrr,” Niall slurs.  _ These guys _ .

    “Alright. Everyone grab stuff and let's bring this party inside,” I instruct. I go to stand up, feel the world tilt to its side, and then I plop myself down in Harry's lap.

    “You're drunk aren't you?” Harry laughs. I hold my finger up to my lips, shushing him.

    “I am not. I just wanted to sit in your lap,” I tell him. I'm proud of how I manage to get the whole thing out without slurring. But then I hiccup. The involuntary action makes my head spin and I have to shut my eyes.

    “Yeah alright. Come on ya lush,” Harry chuckles. He picks me up and carries me inside to the couch. He puts me down gently and goes to help our friends bring everything inside. I pull out my phone and start flipping through social media. There's pictures and clips already coming out from the interview. They're definitely all from fans that were at the taping. I click on a clip of us performing the new song.  It sounds pretty sick. I continue on to the comments. It's the typical response. 

 

_ ColleenA: Love the new song! _

_ MacyL: THIS IS AMAZING _

_ ColeR: Simply stunned _

_ JessalynM: Truly a beautiful song! _

 

    I smile and scroll through the praises. But one post in particular catches my eye. Next to the comment, there are a hundred and ninety-three “dislikes”.  _ What the fuck? _ I read the comment and my stomach drops.

 

_ Anonymous: All you “larries” are ridiculous. Harry and Louis are not together. That's disgusting.  _

 

    I feel tears prickling behind my eyes. Much to my dismay, the negativity continues.

 

_ GalaS: this is disgusting. Obviously Larry Stylinson is a thing and they've just gone and rubbed it in everyone's faces. I came for the music. Not this crap. Do not like this song. _

_ MilesA: my daughter loves One Direction. But I don't think I want her subjected to this kind of disgrace. Completely inappropriate. _

_ DesarayF: 1D definitely just lost a ton of fans. Not okay.  _

_ MalikaK: Guys this obviously was just a joke. Harry and Louis are straight. They wouldn't do that to us. Let's be real here. _

 

    I don't know when exactly I got up from the couch. Or how I managed to make it over to the kitchen. But here I am, pouring a shot of tequila. I knock it back. I'm pleasantly surprised that it doesn't burn going down.  _ Oh good. This'll be easier. _ I pour another shot and down it.  _ I'm definitely not drunk enough to deal with this shit.  _ And then the third shot. And the fourth. And I don't know how many more after that.

 

 

    “How is it possible that you're this sick. You ate dinner. And you had less to drink than I did,” Harry says. He’s currently rubbing my back as I continue to throw up. I don't know how I still have anything to expel from my body. This is my third trip to the bathroom in the last hour. Every time, Harry was hot on my heels, ready to hold me. We're currently seated on the cool tile floor in the downstairs bathroom. Liam, Zayn, and Niall are all out in the living room. We were in the middle of playing Monopoly when I jumped up for the third time to puke.

    “I -” I start but my words are cut off as I vomit again. Harry puts his hand against my forehead to prevent me from slamming it into the edge of the toilet again. A couple heaves later, I can breathe. My face is tear soaked and I feel ridiculous. 

    “Wanna try that sentence again?” Harry asks softly. I shake my head. Harry takes a damp cloth and runs it across my mouth. I hate that I'm so useless right now. I want to get up and take care of myself. But I can't help but sigh as Harry collects me in his lap and hugs me to his chest.

    “I drank too much,” I conclude. My words are raspy as my breath fights through the raw mess that is my throat. I cough a few times, trying to clear the pain, and Harry shoves me up to the toilet just in time. More gross brown liquid spills out of my mouth.  _ Fucking tequila _ .

    “All honesty, Lou...how much did you drink?” Harry asks. I take the cloth and wipe my mouth again before looking up at him. I can only imagine how awful I must look. I watch as Harry's face crumbles. “Oh baby.”

    “I'm sorry,” I whisper. Harry opens one of the drawer under the vanity and pulls out a head band. I've always made fun of him for having so many of the silly things. But now, I'm thankful. He gently slides it onto my head, effectively securing my hair away from my face.

    “Lou...how much did you drink?” Harry asks again. He's obviously not giving this one up. I shake my head and try to pull away from him.

    “Too much,” I say, struggling to get out of his grasp.

    “Yeah I can see that. But  _ how much _ , Louis? I've never seen you get sick the same night. Hangovers are one thing. This is different,” Harry says. I can hear the pain and worry in his voice. Like the asshole that I am, I ignore it.

    “First time for everything I suppose,” I say flatly. Harry sighs.

    “There are few things I will push you on. This is one of them. I need to know how much you drank,” Harry says sternly. I don't need to look at him to know there's no avoiding it anymore. I slump against his chest, finally giving in.

    “All of it,” I say. Harry doesn't answer right away. He pauses, like he's choosing his words carefully.

    “All of what?” he finally asks, his voice icy.  _ Fuck. _

    “Tequila,” I whisper. I feel Harry's body go rigid beneath me.

    “You drank all of the tequila?” Harry clarifies. I nod against his chest. My body is too hot. Everything is too hot. And the room is starting to spin.

    “I think I'm going to be sick again,” I manage to say. I grab the edge of the toilet and pull myself toward it. Yet again, I make it just in time. The heaving is painful and continues longer than necessary. I've attempted to drink water in between rounds of retching. But everything I try comes right back up. I take a breath, thinking I'm done. But I'm not.

    “Liam!” Harry shouts. The volume of his voice pierces my head. Then he shouts for Liam again.

    “What?” Liam asks, practically bursting through the door.

    “How much tequila is left?” Harry demands.  _ Oh fuck _ . Liam doesn't ask questions but I see him leave out of the corner of my eye.

    “Harry…” Liam says, his voice trailing off. The agony in Liam’s voice cuts to my core. I look up at Harry. Tears spill from his eyes. _You made him cry, you fucker. You made him cry._ I whine and try to cuddle closer to Harry. _Just put me out of my misery. Tell me it's over. Tell me you never loved me. Tell me we can go back to the way it was before. Before the fans knew. Tell me it's over. Even if it's not true. Just say it. Tell me a lie._

  
    “Oh my God. Fuck,” Harry practically cries. I look up and see Liam has returned and is staring down at me with worry, the empty bottle in his hand. That's the last thing I remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everybody. I'm sorry this chapter is short. At least I feel like it's short. Just seemed like a good place to stop. I'm already working on Chapter 8. Please don't hate me for the cliff hanger!
> 
> Lots of love, Aria ♡


	8. Up All Night

**Chapter 8: Up All Night**

 

    Somewhere, I can hear voices. But they sound strange. I try to open my eyes but the simple action requires more effort than I have to put forth.

    “I'm so sorry, baby,” someone says.  _ That's Harry. Why is Harry sorry? Why can't I open my eyes? _

__ “You should get some rest, Harry,” Liam suggests. His voice sounds strange.

    “No. I'm not leaving him. I can't leave him,” Harry counters. No more words. I want to reach out for him. I want to hold his hands and say I'm sorry. But I can't. I feel the weight behind my eyes and I desperately want to cry. But even that seems to be too strenuous. Once again, sleep takes over. 

 

 

    “Hey, Lou. I don't know if you can tell, but this Niall. The doctors said you hit your head pretty hard,” he whispers.  _ I hit my head? When? _ “They said it's normal for someone to be out of it for a few days. But...well we're all worried, bud. Harry is a mess. He thinks it's his fault.”

    I desperately fight to open my eyes or move.  _ Maybe I can speak. _ I feel my mouth crack open and I try to talk. Nothing.  _ Maybe I can whine? _ I make another attempt at showing signs of life. And I fail.

 

 

    I don't know how long this goes on for. Seems like eternity. I know Harry is in the room, even before he speaks. 

    “Baby, please wake up. I miss you. I love you so much,” he says.  _ He still loves me. _ Somehow, his words give me the strength I need to open my eyes. It's painful though. I peel my eyelids apart and instantly regret it. Pain ricochets through my head as light seeps into my eyes. I groan.

    “Ha-rr. Ha-. Haz,” I croak. My throat feels like sandpaper and in this particular moment, I want to fall back into the paralyzing slumber.  _ This is awful.  _

    “Lou?” Harry asks cautiously. My eyes take a while to adjust. The room is too bright.  _ Where the fuck am I? _

    “Light,” I rasp. I hear movement and I know that Harry has jumped up to turn the lights off. When he does, the pain in my head subsides, but only briefly. Somewhere next to my head, a phone rings. I knows it's Harry's because of the silly David Bowie ringtone.

    I groan and manage to turn my head slightly away from the noise.

    “Shit. I'm sorry, love,” Harry rushes. The ringing stops and I take a deep breath. “Lou, I'm gonna go get  the doctor. I'll be right back.” I feel Harry's lips touch the skin at my temple. The contact is a little uncomfortable and this makes me sad. But then I realize it's not  _ that _ contact. It's  _ all _ contact. Everything hurts.

    “Hello, Mr. Tomlinson. My name is Dr. Haines. I'm going to give you a quick assessment and then we'll see about making you more comfortable,” the doctor says. He then asks if I understand.

    “Yeah,” I croak. The level of pain in my throat is unreal.  _ Well if you didn't spend your night puking your guts out, then you wouldn't feel like this. You idiot. _

    “How's your throat?” Dr. Haines asks. I wince. 

    “Awful,” I tell him honestly. Dr. Haines then asks a nurse to get me some water.

    “That should go away in the next day or so. Can you push down on my hands please?” he asks, touching my feet. It takes an extreme amount of effort but I make it through all his tests and questions. When we're finished, he raises the back of my bed and helps me sit up. It's a painful process but I feel a bit better when I'm more upright.

    Harry is seated next to me. The hospital room doesn't look as I expected. It's quite honestly a mess. There's backpacks and coffee cups and bedding everywhere. Harry has clearly taken up real estate in his chair. He’s got a pillow and blankets. I can see his phone plugged in next to him.  _ How long has he been here? How long have I been out? _ I must have wondered these things out loud because Harry jumps in to answer.

    “I've been here the whole time, Lou. I promise. I never left,” Harry says. His hand finds mine. His thumb brushes over my knuckles and I smile.

    “I trust Harry here can fill you in on details and missing pieces. Do not be surprised if you're missing chunks of time. That's quite normal. You're very lucky, Louis. I'll come back a bit later. Take care of your husband,” Dr. Haines says the last bit directly to Harry. As soon as the doctor and nurse have cleared out and shut the door, I give Harry a look.

    “They'd only let family stay over night. I couldn't leave you,” Harry admits. He looks over at me like he's waiting for me to explode. 

    “Thank you,” I say. I carefully sip at some water. Now that my throat has calmed down a bit, the cool water feels nice.

    “I'm so sorry, Lou,” Harry says. A tear slips down his cheek. I reach up to wipe it away and notice the IV stuck in my arm.

    “Easy. Don't move too much,” Harry cautions. I chuckle and immediately gasp. A pain shoots through my ribs.

    “Why am I in so much pain,” I hiss. Harry smiles softly and brushes some hair away from my eyes.

    “I got scared. I was afraid because you were so sick. And you weren't getting any better. When I tried to move you to the living room, you fell. You insisted you could walk. I let you walk. I'm so sorry, Lou. I shouldn't have let you walk. I should have carried you,” Harry cries. I shush him, smoothing my own thumb over his knuckles.

    “It's not your fault. You couldn't have known I would fall. What else happened? Surely I can't be this sore from crumpling onto the floor, “ I say. Harry looks at me with sad eyes.

    “You fell down the stairs, Lou,” Harry says.  _ Down the stairs? What stairs? _

    “There's only one step down into the living room,” I say, confused. Harry shakes his head.

    “No..you asked me to bring you upstairs to change. One of the times you threw up, you got some on your shirt. I helped you upstairs to change and I assumed you'd want to go to bed. You said you felt better, that you wanted to go back downstairs with the guys. I wanted you to shower and go to bed. But you started for the stairs. I wanted to help. You said you could walk. You weren't staggering or anything. So I let you walk,” Harry says. The amount of pain swimming in his mossy eyes is killing me.

    “So I fell,” I state. Harry slowly nods.

    “You fell,” Harry cries. I gingerly try stretching out my muscles, trying to take inventory of the injuries.

    “How bad?” I ask. I try to stretch out my right arm but it's secured in cast. I can feel the stiffness of a wrap around my ribs. But I think that's really it. Well, that and my head.

    “It was bad, baby. Bunch of bruised ribs. Fractured arm. Banged up your back and legs. And your head. Well you have a pretty bad concussion,” he tells me. When I don't say anything, Harry continues, “You uhm...you tumbled down and hit your head on several steps. You were knocked unconscious.”

    “How long was I out?” I ask. I look back to Harry. He's looking back with a worried expression. He opens his mouth to answer when the door swings open.

    “Tommo! It's about fucking time!” Liam nearly shouts. He quickly apologizes when I visibly wince at the volume.

     “Glad to see you're awake, mate. Nearly scared us to death,” Zayn says. They huddle around my bed.

    “How can you all be this alert? You all drank a lot too,” I complain. They all exchange glances. “What?”

    “Lou...you were out for awhile,” Niall says. They exchange glances again.  _ What the fuck? _

    “Anyone care to tell me how long?” I ask, getting a little agitated.  _ Surely it can't have been that long. Few hours - maybe half a day. _

    “It’s been a week,” Liam says softly. My stomach drops. 

    “What?” is all I can manage. Harry grips my hand, lacing his fingers through mine.

    “You were out for a week, Louis. We were here every day. But yeah...it's...it’s been a week,” Harry says.

    “We've come and gone. Hazza though...he's been here the entire time. He's literally not left the room,” Zayn explains. He smiles warmly at me.

    “Oh my god. Go home. All of you. Get some rest. That's ridiculous,” I exclaim. They all start to protest but it's Harry's voice that cuts through them all.

    “I will absolutely not go home. This is where I need to be. YOU are my home, Lou,” Harry says. I watch as fresh tears spring to his eyes. I want to push. I want to make him go home and rest. I can't imagine he's gotten much sleep in the chair next to me. But Harry looks at me with such sadness. I give up. I don't argue.

    “Okay,” whisper. Truthfully, I'm thankful that he's not leaving. Everyone seems to relax a bit. Liam perches himself at the foot of my bed,  Zayn pulls up a chair between him and Harry, and Niall produces yet another chair and sits on my other side. My wonderful friends stay there until I'm fighting to keep my eyes open.

    “Stop resisting the sleep,” Liam laughs. I smile. I don't want to sleep though. I want to stay with my friends. But Liam stands, pulling Zayn with him.

    “Visiting hours are just about up anyways,” Niall points out. He tells me to get some sleep and kisses my forehead. Then, Liam and Zayn take their turns doing the same. They all say goodbye and then it's just me and Harry.

    “I wish you'd sleep,” I tell him. Harry laughs and shakes his head.

    “I'll sleep when you sleep, love,” he says. He leans back in his chair and kicks his feet up onto the bed. Despite being in a stiff hospital chair, he looks comfortable. Like he's at ease.

    “Did you sleep while I was out?” I ask. Harry shrugs his shoulders. 

    “A bit. It was difficult though. I took a bunch of power naps. But I was mostly up with you,” Harry admits. Then he throws his head back and laughs, “Up all night.”

    “Oh jeeeez,” I groan, rolling my eyes at him. I poke fun at him. Harry has this obsession with making references to our songs. Whether it be track titles or lyrics. He's really got quite the knack for slipping them into just about any conversation. Even at the interview he - …….. _ the interview _ . I feel my breath catch in my throat and a beeping soon fills the room.

    “Whoa, Lou, what's wrong? Your heart rate just went through the roof. Babe, breathe. Calm down,” Harry tries to soothe me. But it's no use. I crumble into a crying mess. Just then, a nurse rushes in.

    “Oh, dear. Alright. There there. Breathe for me, honey,” she practically begs. She pulls a blood pressure cuff off the wall and makes quick work of slipping it around my arm. She takes the vitals in record time and then rests a hand on my shoulder. “Sweetie, you're having a panic attack. Try to breathe through it.”

    “What happened? He was fine?” Harry asks, sounding panicked. The nurse gently rubs my shoulder. I struggle to concentrate on my breathing. It feels like there's something sitting on my chest. The hateful comments start filling my head.  _ Disgusting. A disgrace. _

    “Your heart rate is rising again. Louis, you need to focus on calming down. Whatever is bothering you, it can't harm you here. You're okay. We've got you,” the nurse says. Harry grabs my hand and turns my head to look at him.

    “Remember what Lou used to do with us when we were nervous before going on stage? That time Zayn had a panic attack while she was doing his hair? She did that breathing thing. In through your nose for three and then out through your mouth for three. You wanna give that a go?” Harry asks. I nod. “That's my boy. Okay. In one...two...three...good and out one...two...three. Great now do it again, baby.”

    Harry walks me through this several times before I can do it on my own without his guidance. I go through it quite a bit, continuing long after I feel better. The comments are threatening to suffocate me. So I focus on the breathing.

    “Nice job,” the nurse says softly. She takes my blood pressure again and says it's come down quite a bit. She instructs Harry to keep an eye on me and ring the call button if I have any issues or questions. Harry thanks her and I watch as she leaves. Tears are still spilling from my eyes but I feel more in control.

     “I love you, Lou,” Harry says.  _ He loves you. He loves you. _ I let Harry's words sink in, wrapping myself in their warmth.

    “I love you, too,” I tell him. Harry smiles and kisses my cheek.

    “I don't want to make you upset again...but what just happened?” he asks. He's so cautious. I hate that I've caused this unease in him.

    “The comments,” I say. Harry tilts his head to the side, clearly not catching on. I dig down deep, trying to gather the words needed to communicate what happened. But then it clicks.

    “Oh god. The videos?” he asks. Now it's his turn to cry again. The two of us are such a mess.

    “Yeah,” I say quietly. Harry brings my hand to his mouth, kissing my fingers. 

    “That was it, wasn't it? You saw the comments?” he asks, piecing everything together. I nod. “Louis...I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, love. This is all my fault.”

    Harry is now sobbing uncontrollably. He drops my hand and slumps over, his head on my bed.  _ Oh good job, Tommo. You've just let him believe it's his fault. _

    “It's not your fault,” I tell him. I lift my hand to the back of his head, patting his curls. They're soft. The kind of soft they are when he doesn't use any hair product. All of a sudden I'm craving his touch. And his smell. The way it feels when he cuddles into my chest or nuzzles my neck.

    “It is though. If I had just sung the damn song the way it's written - the way we rehearsed - none of this would have happened,” Harry cries. It feels like my heart is shattering into a million pieces.

    “Stop. Stop blaming yourself. It was going to come out eventually. Niall is right...we hate pretending in front of our fans. We all do. Why should we hide? This all would have come out into the light at some point. We didn't do this to please people. If they don't like it, fuck them,” I say, trying to cheer him up. Harry attempts a smile but it doesn't look sincere.

    “But you...you were upset. Obviously. You nearly drank yourself to death over it. And that's my fault. We could have done it differently. We should have waited. Released a statement of something. Anything else and maybe it wouldn't have been so bad,” Harry rambles. I can hear panic rising in his voice.

    “Shhh. No. I like the way this happened. That moment. When you sang those words. I felt complete. I'm the idiot that decided to deal with the haters by doing something so dangerous and I'm sorry,” I say. Harry whips his head up and stares into my eyes.

     “What for? What could you be sorry about?” Harry asks. I reach up and stroke my fingers over his cheek, brushing the away tears.

    “For choosing to drink rather than talk to you,” I tell him. Then, neither of us says anything. Harry just nods and we stay there. Just like that. After a while, Harry slumps forward and rests his head on my bed. My fingers find their way back into his curls, scratching his scalp softly. And then we sleep.

  
  


    Two days later, I'm finally released. I'd wanted to go home sooner but Harry insisted on staying to be monitored. He's so afraid something will happen. Even now, as we're making our way down to the car, Harry is fretting.

    “You sure you're well enough to leave? You can stay another night. Just to be safe,” he suggests. I sigh at him and look up to meet his eyes.

    “I am tired and I want to go home. I want to sleep in our bed and be surrounded by our friends and family and not nurses and doctors,” I say. I pause and look up to the nurse that is pushing my wheelchair. “No offense, love.”

    “No worries,” she laughs, shaking her head. “We get that quite often.When people are ready to go, they're ready to go.”

    “See? No worries, babe,” I say, looking back to Harry. He still doesn't look convinced.

    “Louis is in good hands, Mr. Tomlinson. I trust that you're more than capable of keeping an eye on him,” the nurse says, winking at Harry. It's odd to hear people refer to Harry as “Mr. Tomlinson”. I mean I like it. It's just funny.

    When we get out to the car, the nurse, whose name I still haven't gotten, parks the wheelchair and offers to help me stand while Harry chucks our stuff into the back of his Range Rover. I thank her and turn to Harry who helps me get up into the vehicle. And then we're off.

  
  


    The entire ride home, Harry talks nonstop about all the support we are getting from fans. He mentions hashtags that are trending and how many people are defending us. It's nice to hear but it does little to ease my anxiety. 

  
    “Good. Good,” I say. I stare out the window, watching the landscape whiz by. Although I'm happy to be feeling better and finally be going home, I'm dreading going back to the world of social media.


	9. Illusion

**Chapter Nine: Illusion**

  
  


    It's been exactly three weeks and two days since Harry has touched me in any way beyond platonic. And I'm not happy about it. In fact, I'm currently sitting on the couch, sulking, and almost completely ignoring him. The worst part is he seems unphased by this.  _ Fucker _ .

    “Do you want lunch, babe?” Harry asks from the kitchen. I ignore him. I know I'm acting like a child but honestly, I'm tired of Harry treating me like I'm fragile. At no time did any of my doctors say I couldn't have sex. Sure, they said to limit strenuous activity and be careful of my arm. But my arm is sealed inside the fortress that is this god awful cast. The thought reminds me that there's a particularly itchy spot. I've tried scratching it with a pen, a straw, and a fork. Nothing has worked yet.

    “Are you quite finished?” Liam asks, scowling at me from the other end of the couch.

    “What ever do you mean, Lima?” I ask. Liam crumples up a piece of manuscript paper and chucks it at my face.

    “Quit being an ass. Your boyfriend is talking to you,” Liam spits. I sigh, roll, my eyes, and lean my head back. 

    “What?” I ask. My voice is cold and rigid. This isn't on purpose. But I also don't particularly care.  _ Let him know how aggravated I am with him. _

    “Never mind,” Harry mumbles. His voice sounds broken. Distant. I wait and he doesn't say anything else. I hear the fridge open so I turn around, risking a glance at him. I watch as he puts various things back on the shelves. Then he shouts the door, grabs a sandwich off the counter, and tosses it in the trash. Harry's not usually one to waste food.

    “I'm going out,” he announces. He walks to the front door and pauses like he's waiting for something. Like he's waiting for me to speak up. But I don't. _ Because you're an asshole, Tomlinson. _ Harry sighs, picks up his keys, and leaves. As soon as the door shuts, the yelling commences.

    “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

    “Why are you punishing him?!”

    “You're a class act, Louis. You're acting like a fucking child.”

    “He's going to fucking leave you.  This is the kind of shit that drives people apart.”

    “How long do you think he'll let you act like this before he gives up trying?”

    I listen as their insults and comments slam into me. Each one more painful than the last. But then Zayn hammers in the final nail.

     "He's not eating, Louis. And when he does eat, it's crap. He had McDonald's  _ twice _ this week. He refused going to the gym with me the other day. He won't call Gemma back. His mom called me. He's missed seventeen of his her calls. Lou...he's not even talking to his  _ mom _ . You need to grow the fuck up and talk about whatever the fuck is wrong,” Zayn says. He's angry. He's never been angry with me before. I don't like it.

    “After the shit you guys have been through, I can't imagine what could possibly be so awful that you're ignoring him,” Liam says. None of them get it. They weren't there for the phone call.   
  


 

_     “Louis. We need to talk,” Carl said. I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. I knew this was coming. I'd only been home a few hours when Carl's number flashed across the screen of my phone. _

_     “Sure,” I said. I braced myself for the onslaught of misery. The accusations. The media plan. The instructions. What I got was so much worse. _

_     “Listen to me because I'm only going to say this once. You guys royally fucked up. The label is threatening to drop the band because there has been so much negative backlash. Harry's little stunt pissed of a lot of people. And fans are heartbroken. You're supposed to be the teen heartthrobs of the world...not crushing their dreams,” Carl lectured. I tried to distract myself from Carl's words. So I watched as Harry danced around the kitchen while he made dinner. I couldn't help but smile. He was wearing a pair of black joggers and a plain grey v neck shirt. And he looked absolutely gorgeous. My admiration was cut off by Carl asking if I was listening. _

_     “Yeah I hear you,” I told him. _

_     “I don't think you did. I'm telling you that the future of One Direction is balancing oh so precariously on the next few weeks. Every opportunity you guys have, you need to shut down the rumours. Harry is going on dates,” he said. This caught my attention. _

_     “Excuse me?” I demanded. _

_     “You heard me. I'm setting Harry up on dates and you're going to be seen with people as well. The two of you need to start acting like the STRAIGHT mega super stars that you are. Your antics are usually funny. But this was too much,” Carl said. He gave me another long monologue about behaving ourselves and making sure we are following all directions forwarded to us by management. And then he ends the call. _

_     “Who was that? You look upset.” Harry commented. I looked up and saw my wonderful boyfriend standing at the edge of the living room, bowl and whisk in hand. _

_     “Oh nothing. Just Lottie being ridiculous,” I lied. I just lied to him. _

  
  


    “You don't get it,” I tell my friends. All three are staring me down, challenging me to prove it. I know I should be able to tell them. But I know what'll happen. They'll accuse me of being a coward. They'll tell me to suck it up and deal with it. Deal with Harry. Deal with management. I can hear it now: “You guys are a team.”

    I'm angry that Harry hasn't attempted to touch me. But I'm also angry because it makes it easier to ignore him. And that's what I have to do. I have to ignore him. I have to get comfortable not being near him 24/7. If we're supposed to put up this front - the illusion that we're nothing more than best friends - this is what has to happen.

    “It is what it is,” I tell them.  _ Hmm. It is what it is. _

  
  
  


    “I'm surprised by the choice,” Mark, the tattoo artist says. I don't answer him right away and instead watch as he readies the equipment. I'm sitting on the edge of the chair, waiting patiently. But I'm not really patient. I'm counting down the moments until the pain. I know it's going to hurt. But perhaps that's what I deserve.

    “I like the phrase. It's broad but specific at the same time,” I say like I'm justifying the choice. Mark nods and rips open a needle. He uses a gloved hand to load it into the gun. Then he sets out tiny little cups and fills them with ink. Finally, Mark tells me it's time to put the stencil on. He runs a razor over my skin, clearing away any hair. He tells me to stand up straight with my feet shoulder width apart. Then he peels the stencil away from the printing paper and carefully presses it to the area just below my collarbone. I briefly wonder if this is a good idea. Before I know it, Mark is directing me to lay down on my back. And then he starts.  _ Too late to change your mind now. _

    The pain isn't what I expect. In fact, it's pleasant in a strange way. It hurts but it's a good kind of hurt. I sigh and try not to get too lost in my thoughts as Mark repeatedly stabs my skin, injecting ink just underneath the surface.

  
  
  


    “What is that?” Harry asks as I walk in the door later that night. Liam, Zayn, and Niall are all standing in the kitchen with Harry. They all turn to look at me.

    “A tattoo,” I tell him. I watch as Harry's eyebrows shoot up and his eyes nearly bug out of his head. He obviously wasn't expecting me to answer. As Mark had worked on my tattoo, I’d decided that I was going to have to talk to Harry. And as much as it was going to pain me, I had to break it off. There was no way we could be a couple and not ruin our careers. If Harry loved our friends as much as I did, I knew he'd understand.

    “What is it? It's huge,” Liam says. I look down at my chest. Mark had spread a thin layer of Aquaphor over the new ink and then covered it up with nonstick bandages, telling me I could remove them in an hour or so and then to immediately wash it.

    “Well it's time to take the bandage off. I have to wash it. Can see for yourselves,” I tell them. Carefully, I peel the tape away from my skin and remove the bandages. Liam and Zayn look at me sadly. Niall’s shoulders slump and he sighs. And Harry practically runs upstairs. No one says anything as I go into the downstairs bathroom. On my way home, I’d stopped to get the soap that Mark recommended along with my own tube of Aquaphor. Carefully, I wash my new tattoo and look in the mirror to apply the Aquaphor. Finishing up, I stare at the angry red skin. Sleek black words spill across my chest. A simple statement and so heavy at the same time. I sigh.

    “It is what it is,” I read to myself quietly.  _ It is what it is _ .

  
  
  


    “We need to talk,” Harry says decisively. I'm seated on the couch, staring at the tv but not actually watching. I’ve been stalling breaking up with Harry. For quite some time actually. I break my gaze and look to Harry. He looks pissed. And upset. And something else.

    “Okay,” I say. In the last two weeks, ever since the tattoo incident, I've allowed myself minimal contact with Harry. I respond when he talks to me, though I typically choose single word answers. I know that I'm being unfair, but this is what needs to happen. This is what's best for the band. I'm preparing myself to rip off the band aid and end our relationship.

    “I need you to eat,” Harry says, taking me by surprise. He holds out a bag of fast food. I take it though I don't intend to eat it. But Harry comes around the side of the couch, plopping himself down next to me. I suck in a sharp breath and fight not to whine as a dull pain bounces around in my chest. I'd like to blame the discomfort on my ribs or the tattoo. But that would be a lie. Harry has seated himself far too close to me. I can feel the heat radiating off his body. It's physically painful to be this close.

    “I'm really not hungry,” I lie, trying to get up. But Harry grabs my hand and pulls me back down. The contact immediately brings tears to my eyes and I have to look away. The area of my skin that Harry is holding onto erupts into flames. The contact...I crave it. But I can't have it. I try to twist out of his grasp but Harry doesn't let me.

    “I'm done with this bullshit, Louis. I don't know what the fuck I did or what is wrong with you but this is ridiculous. If you don't want me anymore - if you've changed your mind - just tell me. Because living with you and being so far away is killing me. It's been over a month. I can't do this anymore,” Harry pleads.  _ He's begging me to say it. To tell him I'm done. And you still can't say. You're a coward, Tommo. _

    “I don't know what you want me to say,” I tell him. My voice is flat and emotionless. I'm thankful that I'm able to hold it together. But I have to look away from him otherwise the wetness in my eyes will surely spill and betray the “asshole” facade I've created. I'm not ready to have this conversation right now. I need more time.

     “I think you just did,” Harry whispers. Then he gets up and leaves me on the couch. I sigh and let my body fall back into the cushions. 

  
  
  


    W _ hat are you doing? You're such an idiot. _ I'm cursing at myself in my head. I've moved into the kitchen and I'm making tea, yelling at myself internally, when I hear Harry coming down the stairs. I fight the urge to look at him as I hear him moving behind me. But then, in one quick motion, my world falls apart.

    Harry throws his house keys onto the kitchen counter next to me. As if this is not enough, his words cut into me. Leaving sounds so deep I doubt they'll ever be patched.

  
    “Bye, Louis.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me. Hold on for another chapter. I promise I'll tone down the cliff hangers. Much love, Aria ♡


	10. Night Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: there is an insinuation of self harm. There is no description or details. It's merely insinuated.

**Chapter** **10: Night Changes**

  


     _I'm fairly certain that THIS is what it feels like to die. This must be it. Nothing could possibly be worse than this._

    I haven't moved. It's like I'm stuck standing here, waiting for the kettle to boil. I strain my ears to listen to what is happening by the front door. There's the indisputable _click click click_ of the handle of his suitcase being extended. I know that sound anywhere.

 

     _“Lou, I think mine's broken,” Harry drawled. I loved when his accent drowned his words._

_"Well what did you do to it?” I asked. Harry stood in the middle of the airport, frantically trying to get the handle of his suitcase to cooperate._

_“I don't know! Nothin’! It's just not working,” Harry exclaimed. I shook my head at him and walked back to where he was standing. It was our first time flying together and Harry had been a mess all morning._

_“Just relax, Haz. Worse come to worst, you can just roll it,” I told him. I fiddled with the handle, trying to see what the problem was. After a few moments of pulling and pushing and finally kicking the damn thing, the handle extended. Though not without complaint. As it rose, it made an odd clicking sound._

_“Oh good. Now I have to listen to that every time I use it,” Harry complained. The boy really did stress out over the silliest things._

_“Relax, Harry. No one will care what sound your suitcase makes,” I said, shaking my head at him. Harry turned to me and pouted. I brushed him off and pulled him along to our gate._

_“Thank you. Thank you,” a woman said to each of us as she checked our boarding passes. We began down the sloping hallway to the plane. As we approached the door, there was a small line. A man near the front complained that someone was in his seat. Now it was my turn to panic._

_“Oh god...what if we can't sit next to each other? What if we get separated?” I gushed. Harry whirled around to face me. His hand reached down and curled around mine, squeezing gently._

_"Don't worry. They can't break us apart. Nothing ever will. I won't leave you,” Harry said. The look in his eyes told me he was telling the truth. With Harry's hand clutching mine, I allowed myself to relax._

  


    “They can't break us apart. Nothing ever will,” I repeat to myself. The words taste funny. Like I'm not saying them correctly. _That's not it, you twat._ Well then why is it odd? _Because you need to say them to HIM!_ Before I can think twice, I find my feet propelling me towards the door. I fling it open and rush outside. But he's not there. Harry isn't there. Nor is his Range Rover.

  
  
  


    The next week passes by at an alarmingly slow pace. The only way I even know that time has passed is by how the sky looks every time I venture out to get more beer. The little store down the street must know me by name by now. They don't even card me anymore. I still carry the fake ID anyways. But honestly, they know what I want when I go in.

    “Afternoon,” a clerk greets me when I walk in. I nod my hello and head for the beer cooler. Three doors down on the left and all the way down on the floor. I grab a case, slide it out, and haul it up into my arms. Then, in the next aisle over, I grab a random bag of chips. I walk back to the front and place everything on the counter. The clerk smiles and places a pack of my usual cigarettes on top of the beer.

    “Can I actually have two packs, please?” I request. He looks at me for a moment and then reaches behind him to grab another box. I can practically hear his thoughts. _What a low life. Beer and cigarettes, beer and cigarettes._ I ignore it, and him, and hand over some cash. I know it's more than what it costs but I honestly don't care. I slip the cigarettes into my pocket and grab the case of beer, balancing the chips on top.

    Outside, the oppressive California sun is beating down. I make quick work of putting everything into my car and then get in. I roll all the windows down, crank up the volume, and start heading for home. _Home. Not much of a home without Harry._ _And whose fault is that?_

    “Fuck my life,” I say to no one. I fly down the road, going well over the speed limit, and make it home in record time. I decide that a cold beer sounds fantastic right about now.

 

    I pull into the driveway, get everything out of the car, and get all the way up to fiddling with my keys before I realize that my front door is open. _I definitely did NOT leave this open._

    I set everything I'm holding down onto the little bench beside the door and cautiously step inside. Then my stomach drops.

    “Louis!” Liam shouts at the top of his lungs. I sigh and go back to grab my beer.

    “I'm right here. Ya don't have to yell,” I spit. I make my way into the kitchen and pull the fridge open with my foot. I pull open the case of beer and start lining up the bottles on a shelf.

    “Please tell me you had a party,” Liam begs. I look up at him and I find him staring around the disaster that is our house. _Oh...nope. Your house, Lou. YOUR house._

    “Tomlinson household, party of one,” I say. My voice doesn't even sound like my own. It's flat and raw.

    “You didn't have a party?” Liam clarifies. I shake my head. “You mean to tell me…..you drank this much? I just saw you last weekend. You've drank this much in a week?”

    “It's been a long week,” I tell him. I know what he sees. In all honesty, it's a little frightening. Dozens and dozens and dozens of empty beer bottles are scattered about the house. There's empty pizza boxes leftover from when I was still eating. I can't remember the last time I did laundry and random articles of clothing are everywhere. There's not a single clean dish or glass and I'm fairly certain all that occupies my fridge other than alcohol is a few bottles of condiments. I peek back inside the fridge. Yup, there they are. Ketchup, mustard, and some barbeque sauce.

    “Louis, this level of depression...this is a problem,” Liam says. I don't move or say anything. I just stare at the barbeque sauce, willing it to fight this battle for me. “Lou, look at me.”

    “I just need some time, Li,” I tell him. It's not a lie. I do need time. How much though? I haven't a clue.

    “You've had time. You've had a week since Harry walked out. And in that week, you've drank enough to put Niall’s hometown to shame. Enough is enough,” Liam spits. I close the fridge and lean forward, letting my forehead rest against the cool stainless steel.

    “Liam...I don't have the energy for this,” I sigh.

    “Lucky for you, I'm patient. Go shower and come back with a different attitude,” he instructs. _Maybe if you go upstairs and don't come back down, he'll get the hint and just leave._ Begrudgingly, I drag myself up the stairs.

    “I'll be here waiting. If you're not back down here in half an hour, I'm coming up there,” Liam calls up the stairs. _Well shit._

  


 

    The shower feels surprisingly good. Initially, I'd turned the water on with no intention of actually getting in. But as I'd sat there, watching the water swirl down the drain of the tiled floor, I'd caved and gotten in.

    The water washes over my skin in a soothing way. Without looking, I grab some shampoo and start washing my hair. A few moments into enjoying rubbing my scalp, I get dizzy and nearly fall over. It feels like the wind has been knocked out of me. I tear my hands out of my hair and look down at them in horror. Sweet smelling pink suds drip down onto the floor. It's Harry's strawberry shampoo. I slide down the shower wall, crumbling into a heap on the floor as my emotions are essentially run through a garbage disposal.

  
  


    “Lou? You okay?” Liam asks from the other side of the door. When I don't answer him, I hear Liam try to open the door. But I locked it. “Lou, open the door.”

    “Go away,” I say quietly. Again, my voice is flat and detached. I don't sound like me at all.

    “I'm not going away. I'm worried about you,” he says. He tries the handle again. “Damn it, Louis. Open the door!”

    “Leave me alone,” I demand, trying to sound angry. I don't even have the energy for that. _I'm pathetic._

    “If you don't unlock this door, I'm kicking it down,” he threatens. I don't even care anymore. When I don't respond, Liam threatens me a few more times. And then he kicks in the door. He takes in the scene in front of him. I'm laying down on the bathroom floor, wrapped in Harry's bathrobe, and strawberry shampoo makes my already messy hair stick to my forehead. “Jesus, Lou…”

    “I'm fine. Leave me alone,” I say, trying to keep the tears at bay. Yet again, for what seems like the millionth time in the last few months, I fail. It's like a fucking dam breaks. I cry and cry and cry. Painful, body wracking sobs fill the tiny space that is my bathroom.

    “Fuck,” Liam swears. He kneels next to me, grabs me under my arms, and pulls me into a sitting position.

    “I just want to be alone,” I tell him. “Just leave me be. I'm fine.”

    “You are not fine. You're broken and depressed. You're laying on the floor, crying, and still have shampoo in your hair. You're not fine,” Liam counters. More tears pour from my eyes as I let my friend take care of me. Liam stands me up, takes off the robe, and gently pushes me back into the shower. He makes me tilt my head back and rinses out my hair. I have to fight with everything I have not to flash back to when I took care of Harry in this way.

    “I'm...I…” I start. I don't even know how to word what it is that I am. Or what I'm feeling.

    “You're what?” Liam presses me to continue. He finishes rinsing out my hair and shuts off the water. He folds me up back inside the bathrobe and then drags me out of the shower. He looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to finish my thought. I search for the words. I search for something eloquent to describe what this is. But there's really only one way to say it.

    “I'm sad.”

  
  


    Liam took his time getting me back downstairs. He let me try to pick out some clothes. But even that was a challenge. For the first time since Harry left, I’d opened his side of the bureau. The only thing in it was my Doncaster hoodie. Pain ripped through my chest. I'd pulled it off the hanger and held it up to my nose. Harry's scent lingered on the material. Then I started to cry.

    Liam had then taken over and helped me get dressed. Now, I sit on the couch as he bounces around my kitchen.

    “Zayn is on his way over with food since there's nothing but alcohol in your fridge. We're having dinner and then going grocery shopping. Zayn is going to do your laundry and Niall is going to clean up. You're not allowed to argue,” Liam informs me. I groan but don't protest. My friends are trying to help me. I don't deserve the help.

    “Okay,” I agree. Liam joins me in the living room and brings two steaming mugs of tea. He sits down next to me.

    “Okay,” he echoes. I carefully blow on my tea, waiting for it to cool down. Harry always puts ice cubes in mine because I'm too impatient for it to cool. _Harry._ Tears begin leaking from the corners of my eyes again. _You're so fucking weak._

    “I need to tell you something,” I say. Liam takes a deep breath in.

    “Okay. Tell me,” he says softly. _You have to tell him. You have to be honest. Someone needs to know._

    “That night...the night I drank too much. When you had to call paramedics. Something happened that night,” I start. I expect Liam to jump in and make a wise ass remark about how so many things happened that night. But he doesn't say a word. He just waits. So I continue. I tell him all about the comments I found posted to the video. I tell him about losing count of how many shots I'd done. I tell him about waking up in the hospital. How Harry took care of me. How just thinking about the comments had sent me into a panic attack. And then I tell him about the phone call from Carl. I tell him how I self-sabotaged my relationship. How I’d decided to break it off to preserve our band. To preserve our careers. I tell him how I’d stalled because I really didn't want to break up with Harry. I tell him how I fell apart when Harry left. How my heart broke into pieces when I heard his keys hit the counter. I tell Liam about the time in the airport. And then I tell him about running after Harry, only to find I was too late.

    I tell Liam all of this. I spill out all these words. All the facts and reasons behind every asshole thing I've done since I came home from the hospital.

    When I finish talking, I look up at Liam. Hi mouth is set in a firm line and his eyes are watery.

    “Change of plans.”

  
  


 

    “Liam, you are not making me go in there. Let's just go back and have the night you outlined, yeah? Zayn is bringing food over and it'll get cold. We really should just go back. Besides, I desperately need to go grocery shopping and Niall will need help cleaning,” I throw out all these excuses. But none of them seem to phase Liam. We're currently parked outside of Zayn’s flat - which I've learned is where Harry has been crashing for the last week.

    “Listen to me and listen very carefully. There is a curly haired boy up there,” Liam says, pointing in the general direction of Zayn’s flat. “He's been up there for days, crying. All he does is cry. He's not eating. He's not sleeping. The few times he has dozed off, he wakes up screaming out your name or begging you to forgive him. He's falling apart, Louis. I don't fault you for the way you panicked. I don't fault you for how you tried to fix things. I do fault you for this. This is unnecessary.”

    “You don't know what you're talking about,” I whisper. Liam yanks his keys out of the ignition.

    “I've never been in your position, that's true. But I am telling you what I am seeing. Your boyfriend is up there, holed up in Zayn’s flat, wasting away because the man he loves is too much of a chicken shit to grow the fuck up and tell him the truth!” Liam shouts at me. “You have the power to fix this. You've had the power the entire time. But you've spent the last week, drinking yourself into oblivion and firing through multiple packs of cigarettes. Go up there and fix this!”

    I'm stuck. Liam has never yelled at me like this before. I want to cry. I want to yell at him. I want to demand that he take me home. But I don't. Instead, I let Liam physically drag me out of the car and up the three flights of stairs to Zayn’s door. I watch as Liam fights to get his key into the lock. And then several things seem to happen all at once.

    Liam swings the door open. He pushes me inside. I meet Harry's eyes. And then I see the cloth that Harry has pressed to his wrist. It's bloody.

    “Oh my god!” I explode. I launch myself at Harry, grabbing his wrist. “No. No no no no no. Harry. Fuck. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. This whole thing is my fault. I'm such an ass. I royally fucked up. Carl called and threatened me and I panicked and I wanted to save the band so I was gonna leave but I couldn't leave because I love you and then you left and my world fell apart and I tried to run after you but you were gone.”

    I'm crying now. The words tumble out and I nearly choke on them in the process. It all comes falling out in one breath as I grip Harry's wrist to my chest.

    “Louis. I'm okay,” Harry says calmly. I look up into his impossibly green eyes.

    “How can you tell me you're fine when your wrist is bleeding?! Oh my god. You're bleeding. You're bleeding! Liam! He's bleeding!” I shout. I'm nearly hysterical. Then I feel strong hands grip my shoulders, shaking me a bit.

    “Listen to me! Calm down!” Harry bellows. I wince and snap my mouth shut. Harry drops his hold on my arms and quickly steps away from me. I want to whimper as I feel his body heat rush away from me.

    “You're bleeding,” I tell him. From the moment Liam pushed me inside until now, a hundred horrors have flashed through my head - all of which involve Harry having hurt himself because of me.

    “I know. Zayn asked me to put an air conditioner in the window. It slipped out of my grasp and a piece that was sticking out caught my wrist,” Harry explains. He lifts up the injured body part to show me. The bleeding has stopped.

    “Oh,” I say, shrinking back into myself. Then we stand there awkwardly. Very awkwardly.

    “Right,” Liam says, breaking the silence. “I'm leaving. You two are staying here to hash this out. Good luck. And please don't kill each other.”

    And then he's gone, leaving Harry and I staring at each other. Completely at a loss for words.

  
  


_We're only getting older, baby_   
_And I've been thinking about it lately_   
_Does it ever drive you crazy_   
_Just how fast the night changes?_   
_Everything that you've ever dreamed of_   
_Disappearing when you wake up_   
_But there's nothing to be afraid of_   
_Even when the night changes_ _  
_ It will never change me and you

_Chasing it tonight,_   
_Doubts are running 'round my head_   
_You're waiting, hide behind a cigarette_ _  
Heart is beating loud, and I never want it to stop_

    I stare down at the bar napkins scattered on the kitchen counter. There's got to be at least a dozen covered in different coloured pen and sharpie. This one though. This set of phrases is amazing. It's heart breaking. The pain in my chest threatens to consume me.

    “Do you want a beer?” Harry asks, shaking me out of my thoughts. I look up and see him standing in front of the fridge, holding it open and waiting for my answer.

    “Got anything stronger? I've hit a new tolerance for beer,” I tell him. Harry gives me a sad look. For a moment, I think he's going to deny me. But then he shuts the fridge, reaches into the cupboard above it, and pulls out a bottle. Tequila. He grabs to red Solo cups and pads out into the living room. He sits on the couch, pours some of the evil brown liquid into each of the cups and holds one out to his side, signaling for me to join him. _Here it goes_.

    “Go,” Harry says. He takes a sip of his drink and makes a face. I also take a sip and try not to wince as the fire slips down my throat.

    “I don't know where to start,” I admit. Harry downs his cup and then pours more.

  
    “The beginning is usually a good place.”


	11. Midnight Memories

**Chapter 11: Midnight Memories**   
  


    I'm currently seated in the hallway outside of Zayn’s flat.  _ How did you manage to fuck up this badly? What the fuck is wrong with you? _ I sigh and let my head fall back, hitting the wall.  _ You couldn't just apologize. You had to defend yourself. _ Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Fuck fuck. Fuck.

  
  


_ “I don't know where to start,” I admitted. Harry downed his cup and then poured more.  _

_     “The beginning is usually a good place,” he said. I couldn’t help but shrink away from his icy tone. But despite this - despite wanting to crawl into a hole and never come out - I told him. I started from the very beginning. And I told him everything. _

_     When I finished, he didn't say anything. Harry just sat there, staring into his cup. The cup which he'd drained and refilled a few times over. _

_     “You are...you are a selfish asshole,” Harry finally said. _

_     “I was trying to do the right thing,” I tried to defend myself. Harry whipped his head to the side and glared at me. _

_     “Best thing? For who? Cause it certainly wasn't for me. You know what I think? I think you're fucking terrified of what people will say,” Harry shouted.  _

_     “I am not!” I lied. Surely he had to be able to see this from my perspective. _

_     “Yes you are. This is what you do! You freak out and then you self-sabotage. You're too afraid to deal with the fallout. If that's even what you want to call it. Who gives a shit, Lou?! The fans? Sure, some are upset. But do you realize how many people have been ‘shipping’ is since the X Factor days?!” Harry said, using air quotes. I didn't want to hear it. I pushed myself off the couch and went into the kitchen. I was not nearly drunk enough for this. I grabbed a beer out of the fridge, cracked it open, and chugged the entire thing. I willed it to hit my system quickly - to aid me in stumbling my way through this god awful encounter.  _

_     Harry followed me, slamming the tequila down on the counter. _

_     “It is what it is,” I told him. The anger in Harry's eyes was then replaced by overwhelming sadness. _

_     “Don't give me that bullshit, Tomlinson. You are the most infuriating and stubborn person I know. I don't know how I lasted as long as I did with you. You're impossible!” Harry spat at me. I watched as he raised the bottle of tequila to his lips and took a large swig. “You are the worst decision I ever made. I'm glad I threw this out for the world to see. Cause now it's done. And I can fucking move on.” _

_     “Don't act like you're some fucking cake walk, Styles. You're suffocating. You can't let anyone have anything for themselves. Everything is always made into the Harry Styles show. Oh we're going to Niall’s football game? Cool...I'll announce it on social media so it turns into a meet and greet for me. Zayn is struggling with anxiety? Oh poor Zayn. Hey everyone, I've dealt with it too. Oh we're going to debut a song? Sure...I'll just change the lyrics. Everything has to be about you. You must love this because THIS is all about you, Styles. This is YOUR fault. I may not have been perfect but you ruined this. Have no fear though. It was fun while It lasted. But don't kid yourself...it didn't mean a damn thing to me.” _

_     I stood there in shocked silence at my own words. I watched as several things passed over Harry's features before he finally turned his back on me. I wanted to protest. I wanted to keep fighting. At least if we were fighting, we were talking. But I didn't get the chance. Harry told me to show myself out, grabbed the tequila, and disappeared into the guest room. _

  
  


    And now I'm here: sitting alone in the hallway, weighing my options. I could just home. Though I doubt Liam will drive me. I'll probably need at Uber. Or, I could grow a pair and go back inside.  _ If he'll even let you in. _ Or I could sit here and wait him out.  _ He has to go out at some point, right? _ I sigh again. I let my head fall down into my hands. It's now or never. And I know that. This is literally it.

    Taking a deep breath, I get up and reach for the door knob. Another deep breath and I push it open. Harry is standing in the middle of the living room, appearing to have been staring at the door. We lock eyes.

    “I lied,” we both say at the same time. We crash into each other, lips meeting in a desperate frenzy. I can't get close enough to him. Our bodies are pressed together but I need more. I need to be closer. Harry appears to be on the same page. He breaks our kiss to pull my shirt off and then his lips descend on my neck. He sucks and bites at the skin. His hands grip my hips, holding my pelvis flush to his. I nudge his chest back and take off his shirt, tossing it to the side.

    “I'm sorry for what I said. I lied. I love you. You mean everything to me. Everything,” I say in between kisses. Harry cups my neck and kisses me deeply. His arms slide down to circle my waist.

    “Shhh. I know. I know. I love you too. With everything I have. I love you,” Harry says. His words hit me square in the chest and stay there. In this moment, I'm happy again.

    “I love you,” I tell him again. I will never go another day without saying these words to him. Harry pulls back and looks at me, searching my eyes. The twinkle has returned to Harry's green pools.

    “Show me,” Harry says. I back peddle.  _ What? _

    “Harry,” I start, unsure of where to go with the sentence. I decide to pull him back down to me for a kiss instead. Harry accepts but breaks away far too quickly.

    “Show me, Lou. Show me that you love me,” Harry instructs. It clicks. Apparently Harry feels I still need assistance in putting the pieces together because he continues, “I love you. You say you love me. I need you to show me. I want you to make love to me and show me.”

  
  
  


    My hands are shaking as I rake them through my hair.  _ This is happening. This is a thing. How did this become a thing? _ I stare at the bathroom door. Harry's been in there for awhile. I've heard the shower turn on and off twice. The toilet has flushed. A cupboard has been shut three times. I've lost count of how many times he's sighed.  _ Maybe he's changed his mind. Maybe you're off the hook. _ No such luck. Harry emerges moments later wearing just his underwear. I notice that they're actually mine.

    “You're a little thief, aren't you?” I joke. Harry reaches out and pulls me against his chest.

    “Mhmm,” he hums. Harry takes my hand and leads me into the guest bedroom. It's a decent size. It smells like Harry. And it's comfortable.

    “Are you sure about this?” I ask, giving him an out. Harry closes the door behind us and pulls up a playlist on his phone. He presses play and the music starts up from a speaker that I can't see. As he puts his phone down, I catch sight of the screen.

**♡Boobear Playlist♡**

    He's killing me. Slowly.

    Harry slips two fingers inside the waistband of my joggers and pulls me close again.

    “I'm sure. I want this. We  _ need _ this Lou. I need you. In every way,” he says quietly.  _ Yup . Killing me. _

    “Kiss me,” I demand.

    “Always,” Harry smiles. And then it begins. Harry's lips devour mine. Somewhere between kisses, bites, and whispers of “I love you”, I feel the back of my knees hit the bed. And then we tumble down. Harry pulls at the joggers, tugging them away from my body. I'm already rock hard. Harry sees this, smiles, and takes me into his mouth.

    “Fuck, Harry. Easy,” I tell him. Harry looks up at me through thick eyelashes and slowly pulls his mouth off me. I watch as his lips drag back up my length until finally they leave my skin.

    “Problem?” he asks.

    “There will be if you go at it like that. Don't make me finish before we've even started,” I instruct him. Harry giggles and then resumes. But this time, he drags his tongue down one side of my cock and back up the other side. Again, agonisingly slow.  _ What. The. Fuck. _

    One of my hands takes hold of Harry's curls, gripping them tightly. I hold his head in place and shift my hips up, pushing my cock farther into his mouth. I swear and do it again. Harry lets me. I guide him, pushing my cock in a little farther with each thrust. Before I know it, I feel his lips near the base of my cock. The breath he pushes out through his nose tickles my skin. 

    “What the fuck?” I rasp. Harry winks at me, takes a breath in through his nose, and pushes forward. His lips touch the sensitive skin just above my cock and I feel myself touching the back of his throat. And then he swallows. I throw my head back on the bed. I can't suppress the moans that erupt from deep in my lungs. Harry slowly retreats, running his tongue back up the underside of my length.

    “Was that okay?” Harry asks. I look back to meet his gaze. His eyes are heavily hooded and his pupils are completely blown.

    “Since when do you not have a gag reflex?” I demand, panting. Harry chuckles.

    “Since always,” he tells me.

    “How the fuck did I not know that?!” I shout. Harry just laughs at me.

    “It's not like we've done this a lot,” he points out. I want to shove myself back into his mouth but I'm afraid I'll cum too early. So I push him over onto his back. I grab his (my) boxer briefs and yank them off. 

    “Get on your hands and knees,” I tell him. Harry doesn't hesitate. He flips over, raises his ass in the air, and leans down on his elbows. This is yet another thing I've never done. For once, I'm not nervous though. I just want this. I want this with Harry.

    I run a hand over Harry's ass, admiring the view. Then, I gently pull his cheeks apart and lean forward. He smells sweet - like the antibacterial soap I used on my tattoo.  _ That's why I heard the shower _ . I place a soft kiss on his hole. I hear Harry suck in a breath. I love that I can do this to him. Carefully, I use my tongue to trace circles around his sensitive skin.

   “Fuck, Lou,” Harry breathes. His voice is husky. I love it. I run my tongue straight up the middle, passing over his hole. I feel Harry shiver and I do it again. My hands knead at his soft flesh, willing him to relax. Harry's voice reaches my ears again, “Please.”

    “Please what?” I ask. Harry sighs, almost sounding frustrated.

    “Just do it. I want the painful part over,” Harry says. His words are quick. I know he's turned on because he's hard. But his voice betrays him. He's nervous.

    “I will, baby. But we're gonna do this the right way. There's no rush,” I tell him. Harry's sighs again but seems to relax a bit. “Do you have stuff for prep?”

    “Oh yeah. Hold on,” Harry says he jumps up from the bed and disappears outside. When he returns, he's got a bottle of lube. Suddenly, Harry looks nervous again.

    “Always prepared, huh?” I joke. Harry flushes. 

    “Actually, no. This is a new bottle that Zayn bought for him and Liam the other day. I threw mine away,” Harry admits. He hands me the lube and sits next to me.

    “Why?” I ask, confused. Harry shrugs.

    “I didn't need it anymore,” he tells me. My heart seems to swell and break at the same time. I reach up and cup the side of his face.

    “We'll buy more for them,” I smile. But Harry doesn't.

    “I also threw away my condoms,” he says.  _ Jesus. He was really committed. _ “I just looked in Zayn’s room. He doesn't have any. He and Liam must not use them.”

    “I'll bet Liam has some in his car,” I tell him. I jump up and go out to the living room for my phone. I press the call button next to Liam’s name.

    “Please tell me you've reconciled,” Liam says when he picks up.

    “I need condoms,” I tell him, completely ignoring his question. And I guess answering it at the same time.

    “Oh. Oh boy. I'm...yeah, I've got some. Do you wanna come get them or…” Liam asks, his voice trailing. I glance back at the bedroom. I can see Harry sitting on the edge of the bed, smiling at me. I watch as he gets up and slowly walks over to me. He walks around to my back and dips his head, nibbling my shoulder. Then he moves to my neck. I feel him sucking a mark there.  _ That'll definitely be a big bruise. _

    “If you could bring them up, that would be great,” I tell him. Liam erupts into a fit of laughter on the other end.

    “Yeah alright. I got you, buddy,” he says. I end the call and drop my phone back on the couch. Turning around, I grab Harry's hips and back him up to the wall. I drop to my knees and pull Harry’s hard cock into my mouth. I go all in. Cupping his balls with one hand and gripping his hip with the other, I take as much of him as I can.

    “Ugh. Don't stop,” Harry moans. I love when he moans. I suck a little harder on my way back up to his tip. This time, Harry moans my name. His hand twists in my hair and pulls gently. I descend on his shaft again when there's a knock. Pulling my mouth away, much to Harry's displeasure, and jump up to get the door. Harry immediately protests, asking me to keep going. I laugh as I open the door.

    “Patience, babe,” I laugh. I swing by eyes outside and find Liam, a deep blush across his cheeks, and trying not to laugh. He briefly looks me up and down and then waves a hello to Harry.  _ We're naked. Completely naked. Oi. _

    “Here. Enjoy,” Liam says, finally letting the giggles spill out. I roll my eyes.

    “Yeah yeah. Bye,” I say, closing the door. I turn back to Harry. His hair is a mess and lips are still swollen.  _ Fucking beautiful. _

  
  
  


    A few hours, and several condoms later, Harry and I collapse back into the pillows, breathing hard. I glance over at the clock. It's midnight. I feel Harry lean over and kiss my cheek before he heads for the bathroom. I sigh. I'm totally content right now. I'm utterly exhausted though. I smile, remembering…

__

_    “Please, Lou. I need you inside me,” Harry whined. I will never get tired of those words. I'd worked him up to three fingers inside his tight hole. Slowly, I eased out of him. Harry whimpered at the emptiness I left. _

_     I ripped open a condom with my teeth and quickly rolled it down over my hard shaft. I leaned down and kissed the small of Harry’s back. Then, Harry rolled over so he was facing me. _

_     “Babe, stay on your front. It's suppose to be less uncomfortable that way,” I told him. I'd read that somewhere. Supposedly, the least uncomfortable position for the person receiving was on their stomach with a pillow underneath their hips. _

_     “I want to look at you,” Harry said. I shook my head at him, smiling. _

_     “You don't have to. I'm not going anywhere,” I laugh. Harry's face grew serious. He grabbed my arms and pulled me forward. We were nose to nose and I felt my cock slide against his crack. _

_     “No. I want to look at you...I want to look at you as you make love to me,” he breathed. Again, his words rendered me speechless. All I can do is nod. He kissed me again, slow and sweet. I breathed in his scent, enjoying the mix of strawberry shampoo and sweat. _

_     I broke away and leaned up on my knees. I grabbed the lube and applied a generous amount to my cock. I'd also read somewhere that there's no such thing as too much lube. Next, I grabbed one of Harry's ankles. I kissed the inside and then placed it on my shoulder. I poured lube onto my fingers and slicked up his hole more. Harry whined at me again. Then, very carefully, I lined myself up with his entrance. _

_     “I love you, Harry,” I told him. Harry smiled up at me. _

_     “I love you too, Lou,” he said. Slowly, I pushed the head of my cock into his hole. I expected Harry to immediately tense up. Expected him to resist. But he sighed. Almost contently. I pressed on, pushing forward very, very slowly. I fought the urge to moan already. He was so tight. _

_     After a seemingly endless effort, I slid all the way into him. Then I waited, letting Harry adjust. Beads of sweat had collected on his forehead and his eyes were shut. I leaned forward and softly kissed his nose  _

_      “How ya doin’, babe?” I asked. Harry didn't answer so I pulled back a little bit. Then he gasped. “What? What did I do?” _

_     “You moved,” Harry said. I immediately apologized and asked if he wanted to stop. But Harry immediately shut that down. “No!” _

_     “No, what? What do you want,” I asked pulling out a little more. I honestly didn't know what he needed me to do but I needed him to decide soon. The vice grip he had around my cock was intense and every movement I made just pushed me closer to the edge - driving me wild. _

_     “I want you to move. Move...fuck me,” Harry commanded. I nearly came undone right then and there. I nodded and focused on moving very carefully. Slow, tiny movements. Harry's face screwed up. I was about to ask what was wrong when he moaned, “Fuck. Ugh...keep going. Don't stop.” _

_     Taking that as the green light, I started more deliberate thrusts. After a few, I pulled almost completely out before thrusting all the way back into him.  _

_     “Oh fuck. You're so tight,” I said. I repeated this motion, moaning. Harry's hands gripped and clawed at my biceps. I picked up his other leg and threw it over my shoulder. I found this position let me go deeper. Harry also seemed to like this one because a string of swears and moans came tumbling out of him. _

_     “Uhh...don't stop. Don't stop,” Harry begged. I watched as his hand pumped his own cock. Harry caught his bottom lip between his teeth and whimpered. I turned my head to the side and bit his calf. Harry moaned again and started pumping his cock faster. Leaned down a bit, reaching to cup the back of Harry’s neck. _

_     “When you cum,” I started, staring deep into his eyes. “I want you to scream my name. I want to hear you moan for me, baby.” _

_     As if my words were his undoing, Harry started to moan. His hand moved faster and faster...and then he fell apart. His walls gripped my cock in a way that I can't even describe. _

_     “Fuck. Uuuuuugh. Louis! Ugh. Fuck...don't stop. Ooooh fuck me. Yes, Louis. Fuck,” Harry shouted. I watch as rope after rope of thick cum shot out of his cock, covering his chest. Between his words, the way he contracted around me, and the sight of him cumming all over his chest, I approached my own release. I pushed Harry's knees down to his chest so I could be closer to him. The fire pooled in my belly before exploding. _

_     “Fuuuck,” I moaned. Harry grabbed his knees, holding them back for me. I resumed my hold on his neck and crushed my lips to his. I continued with a few rough thrusts, emptying myself into the condom. _

_     “Ho...ly...fuck,” Harry swore. _

  
  


    “Penny for your thoughts?” Harry asks, crawling back into bed next to me. I smile and pull him to my chest. The memory of round one of the night made me blush.

    “I love you. So much,” I tell him. Harry smiles, kisses my cheek, and then drops his chin to my chest - still looking at me.

    “Good. Cause you're stuck with me,” he giggles. I laugh with him and kiss his forehead. “I love you too, Lou.”

  
    Harry's words are the last thing my brain processes before we slip into a peaceful - and much needed - sleep.


	12. UPDATE

Hi, everybody!

Just want to let everyone know that after tonight, I may not post any chapters for a few days. I'm traveling to LA this weekend for the Wango Tango festival. I get to see Niall perform!!!!! 

Anyways, for those of you that have been requesting chapters or getting stressed out over my cliff hangers, please stick with me through the weekend! I promise I am still writing. I'll definitely have the opportunity during my 16 hours worth of flight time this weekend. Yuck!

Okay that's it. Thank you to everyone who has left me kudos or nice words. You guys rock!

 

Much love,

Aria ♡


	13. Over Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone!
> 
> I am so sorry that it took me so long to post an update. As I mentioned last week, I travelled to Los Angeles this weekend for the Wango Tango festival! I got to see Niall perform and he was AMAZING. Obviously. And! Liam was at the show! I follow Liam on Instagram and he posted a photo Saturday night of him in front of a logo wall. I saw the photo while I was at the concert and basically did a little happy dance in my seat because I recognized the background and realized that Liam was at the show! So yeah. Awesome awesome awesome.
> 
> Again, I'm really really sorry that it took me so long to update. I had a lot going on this weekend. First time traveling by myself, first time traveling to the West coast, and I had a meeting with a publisher. Craziness. So in an attempt to make it up to you guys, I'm going to be posting a lot of chapters over the next few days! Thank you so much to everyone that is still reading and leaving me encouraging words. You guys are the best.
> 
> Much love,  
> Aria ♡

. 

**Chapter 12: Over Again**

 

 

    “You've not stopped writing since we got up,” Harry says. He slides down to the floor next to me. There's a mess of manuscript paper, Harry's napkins, and sheets of notebook paper all over the place.

 

    “I know. But I'm almost done,” I tell him. Harry hands me a mug of tea and kisses my temple.

 

    “Alright,” he says, settling back to lean against the couch. He leaves me to it. Nearly an hour later, I've revised and edited enough that I'm finally happy with the product. I finish rewriting everything out neatly on a single sheet of manuscript paper, complete with a simple melody. Then I hand it over to Harry.

 

    “Go easy on me, yeah?” I plead. I watch as Harry's eyes fly across the page, reading my song. As he continues, his eyes gather more and more tears.

 

    “Lou...this is amazing,” he finally says. “What are you calling it? You didn't include a title.”

 

    “Maybe you'd like to name it?” I suggest. Harry smiles and skims over the lyrics again. Then he grabs a red sharpie and scribbles.

 

**“Over Again”**

 

    I read the title out loud and smile.

 

    “Its perfect,” I tell him. Harry smiles, sets the paper and sharpie down, and picks up his tea again. Next to me, my phone buzzes.

**Lima Bean: You guys alive?**

 

**Me: Yeah. When do you and Zayn need us to leave?**

 

**Lima Bean: Uhm. Don't wanna rush you.**

 

**Me: You're downstairs aren't you?**

 

**Lima Bean: Yup**

 

**Me: Hahaha. You can come up.**

 

**Lima Bean: ……..are you dressed this time?**

**Me: Ha. Ha. Very funny. Yes, we're dressed. Fucker.**

Liam doesn't respond and a few minutes later, I hear his keys in the door. He and Zayn make a big show of walking inside, covering their eyes.

 

    “Please untangle yourselves. You have company,” Zayn laughs. Harry and I each throw a piece of balled up paper at them. The pair of them laugh before joining us in the living room.

 

    “Glad you're both still alive. Though not totally unscathed, I see,” Liam says,looking at me and pointing to his own neck. I cock my head to the side.

 

    “You haven't looked in a mirror yet, have you?” Zayn chuckles. I give Harry a sideways glare before getting up and heading to the bathroom. In the mirror, I see several large purple and red love bites on my neck.  _ Good Lord.  _ I slip my shirt off over my head.  _ Jesus. _

 

    “Harry!” I shout. I hear the three of them bust up in laughter.

 

    “Yeah, babe,” Harry chuckles as he enters the bathroom. He stops short when he sees my neck and chest. His eyes go wide and he bends over, clutching his stomach as he laughs. “Oh shit. I'm sorry, Lou. Except not really.”

 

    “You are in so much trouble,” I say, trying to sound angry. Harry shakes his head.

 

    “No I'm not. You fucking loved it. ‘Fuck, Harry. Don't stop. Oh yeah, baby. Don't stop’,” Harry repeats my words from the night before. Liam and Zayn are gasping for air in the living room, drowning in their laughs.

 

    “Fuck you all,” I grumble. I stalk back to the living room, but not without kissing Harry on my way by.

 

 

 

    “Mum, I'm sorry. It was rough. I don't know how else to explain it. I've told you everything,” I whine. On the other end, my mum is yelling and swearing at me, threatening to ground me if I ever go this long without talking to her again. Or if I “behave” this way again. I'm not entirely sure what that means. Somewhere, in my guilt, I pray that Liam didn't tell her about the alcohol. Ever since the falling down the stairs incident, she's been a little...on my case. And that's putting it lightly.

 

    “Don't think that just because you've moved out that you're allowed to write me off! I can still ground you into next week!” she shouts. I wince. If anyone could get away with punishing me from another continent, it's her.

 

    “I'm sorry. Really, mum. I'm sorry. We both are,” I say honestly. I look up and see Harry flinching as he talks to his mom on the phone, probably getting the same lecture.

 

    “You are damn lucky that boy loves you, Lou. You almost cost both of you everything,” she says, her voice softer now.

 

    “I know. Believe me...I know. I won't make the same mistakes twice,” I whisper. I roll my eyes at myself. Harry's skill for slipping track titles into conversation is starting to stick.

 

    “I should hope not. Behave yourself. Please. Both of you. Give Harry my love,” she says. She orders me to call her again soon and then she says goodbye. I set my phone down on the counter and resume cleaning. The house is trashed. Completely trashed.

 

    “Didn't you say Niall was going to clean?” Harry laughs. I see that he's also off the phone with his mom and is grabbing another trash bag.

 

    “That's what Li said. Maybe he changed his mind. At least Zayn did laundry,” I say. We'd come home to find the house still in disarray but every single piece of my clothing had been washed, dried, folded, and put away. That was nice because I hate doing laundry.

 

    “Sooo did you have a party?” Harry asks. I sigh and squeeze my eyes shut.  _ Knew this was coming. _

 

    “Nope,” I tell him. Harry looks around the kitchen and living room the same way Liam did the day before. 

 

    “Wow,” Harry says sadly. I put down the trash bag I was holding and walk over to him. I stretch up on my toes and kiss his forehead.

 

    “We're moving on, right?” I remind him. Harry's face breaks into a smile. He nods, wrapping his arms around me. I hug him to me, thankful that we're putting the last few weeks behind us. Liam informed me that I'm not the only one who repeatedly drank himself into oblivion in the last week. It broke my heart to know that I’d caused that kind of pain in Harry.

 

    “Speaking of moving on, I gotta tell you something,” Harry says, pulling away. I freeze and stare at him. _ No. No no no. _ “Oh god, Lou. No. Relax. Not us. Jesus, relax.”

 

    “Don't scare me like that,” I breathe, sighing in relief. I have to remind my heart that it needs to keep beating. 

 

    “I'm sorry. Never. Never ever will  _ we  _ move on. Not like that anyways. No I uhm...I got a call from management,” Harry says. Suddenly, he can't look me in the eyes.  _ Shit. _ We’d been waiting for this call.

 

    “So...dates, huh? Did they pick anyone good?” I ask, trying to make light of the miserable situation before us. Harry shrugs.

 

    “Uhm. It's Taylor,” he says. Harry picks at a stray thread fraying from his hoodie.

 

    “Taylor...like Taylor Swift?” I ask. It feels like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff, staring down, just anticipating the push. 

 

    “Yeah,” he says. And there it is. The push. Of all people...they chose Taylor.

 

 

 

    “What do you mean you're taking Taylor Swift out on a date?” Liam demands. We're all huddled around the table at Niall’s place. Niall, ever the host with the most, has made an obscene amount of food. I'm picking at a piece of chicken. It's good. But I'm really not hungry.

 

    “I mean that part of management's plan for keeping this under wraps and getting positive publicity includes me ‘dating Taylor’,” Harry explains. He crunches down on a chip and looks over at me carefully. I give him a small smile. I know this is what needs to be done. But that doesn't make it any easier.

 

    “That's ridiculous. That's absolutely ridiculous. The dates are ridiculous to begin with. But HER?! Why? No one can possibly believe you’d make it. So why start? It's just going to lead to Harry looking like the bad guy - a womanizer - yet again and Taylor will write a new fucking album. The only person who makes out in this is Taylor,” Liam fires out. I sigh. Harry and I had the exact same conversation earlier. 

 

    “There's nothing we can do, Liam. The label threatened to drop us after the negative backlash came out. We can't lose the label,” I say.

 

    “This is ridiculous,” Zayn sighs. We all sit there, letting the situation sink. It is ridiculous. But like I said, there's nothing we can do.

 

 

 

    “How do I look?” Harry asks. I look up from my notebook. He's wearing plain skinny jeans, a blue button down, a blue zip hoodie, and a green jacket over the hoodie. It doesn't look like he's put in any effort at all. And yet he's still breathtaking. 

 

    “You look nice,” I tell him. Harry sighs.

 

    “I don't want to look nice. I want to look like I don't give a shit,” Harry says, looking down at his clothes. “Should I change? I think I've got a pair of ripped joggers somewhere.”

 

    “Don't be ridiculous. You're going to look drop dead gorgeous in whatever you wear. Even ripped joggers. There's no sense in changing,” I say, trying to ease his obvious anxiety. 

 

    “I don't want to do this,” he says. I get up from the couch and wrap my arms around his waist, resting my head against his chest.

 

    “I know,” I whisper against his jacket. I don't want to do this either. I don't want to stay in this hotel room, anxiously awaiting for my boyfriend to come back from his fake date with Taylor Swift. But we don't really have any choices here.

 

    “I won't be long. I'll try to cut it as short as I possibly can. Besides, I convinced Lou to come along with Lux. If I need to, I can use them as an excuse to get out of there,” Harry says. This makes me feel better. But not by a lot.

 

    “Okay. Well you better go. The sooner you leave, the sooner you can come back to me,” I say. Harry tilts my face up to kiss me. It's a slow, passionate kiss. It's the kind of kiss that makes me want to settle back into the couch and cuddle, wrapped in each other's arms.

 

    “I love you. So much,” he says. Then he steps away from me.

 

    “I love you too,” I tell him. Then he turns, and I watch as Harry sulks over to the door. He pauses to check his hair in the mirror. Then he freezes and suddenly a grin breaks out across his face.

 

    “Can I wear this?” he asks, holding up my black beanie.  _ Ha. Take that, management. _

 

    “Of course you can,” I smile at him. Harry slides it on over his curls, blows me a kiss goodbye, and leaves me alone in our hotel room.

 

 

 

    A sound startles me awake.  _ The fuck? _

 

    I sit up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I hear Harry kicking off his shoes by the door before he comes to join me in the bedroom.

 

    “Hey. What time is it?” I ask. I roll over to the side. The clock says it's two in the morning.

 

    “It's late,” he says. His voice sounds odd - completely unlike Harry. It's small and almost broken.

 

    “I can see that,” I say. I watch as Harry strips down to nothing and then makes his way to the bathroom. I wait until I hear the shower turn on to get up. I don't know what possess me to do it, but I bend down and pick up his shirt, lifting it to my nose. I fall into relief as the familiar scent of Harry and tequila fills my lungs.  _ At least it's not her. He doesn't smell like her. _

 

    I grab all of Harry's clothes, plus my beanie, and throw them into the laundry bag. I'm fluffing up Harry's pillows and pulling down the covers for him when I hear his voice.

 

    “I need you,” Harry calls out to me. If I hadn't been on high alert, making sure I was listening for him, I might not have heard the small plea from inside the shower. I pull off all my clothes and step into the shower behind Harry. He doesn't turn to look at me.  _ What the fuck happened? _

 

    “I'm right here. ‘M not goin’ anywhere,” I say gently. I run my hands up his back, smoothing my fingers over his wet skin.

 

    “I...we need to find a way to make sure I don't have to do that again,” he says. I wrap my arms around his waist and hug his back to my chest. In this moment, I don't really know what else to do for him.

 

 

 

    “Carl, I'm telling you. Either Taylor needs to be on board with what this really is or we'll give you some publicity. And it's not going to be the good kind. Either Taylor complies or we get someone else,” I shout early the next morning. Carl is sitting in an office chair, seated at the head of the conference table. He's rubbing his temples.

 

    “Louis, I hear you. Believe me. I'm hearing what you're saying. But what you want and what the band needs are two very different things. Have you stopped for a moment to think about what the best thing for Harry is?” Carl asks, dropping his hands. “What do you think this all means for him, Louis? You are the cool one. The boy with an edge. Harry is the lovable teen heart throb that makes thousand of girls weak at the knees. Harry is a major marketing tool. If Harry is perceived as anything less than epic boyfriend material to them, we lose. We'll take a major hit. Do you really want to do that to your fans?”

 

    “Shut up, Carl. You don't have a clue what you're talking about,” Niall spits. The rest of the band - sans Harry - is also seated around the large mahogany table.

 

    “You don't even need to be here, Niall. None of you do. We're progressing on with Harry and Taylor dating,” Carl sighs. He gets up and buttons up the front of his suit. “Maybe Harry will even fall in love. I think we all know he deserves a real relationship. Playing house is fun but at some point, we all have to grow up and start behaving.”

 

    “You're fired,” Liam says. The world stands still for a moment. I watch the fire in Liam’s eyes smolder, daring Carl to keep it up. 

 

    “That's cute, Liam. But you can't fire me. The rest of you,” Carl says, pointing between Liam, Zayn, and Niall. “The rest of you would do well to knock some sense into your friends. If you want this band to survive, start acting like it. Harry isn't gay. It isn't fair that the fate of this band rests on someone who doesn't understand that.”

 

    “Carl, you need to leave,” Zayn says. His voice, unlike Liam’s, is cool and even. Carl doesn't move.

 

    “We're not kidding. And we can fire you. Granted, it has to be a band-wide decision. But I doubt Harry will be opposed. You are fired. Get out,” Niall instructs. I look around the room at my friends. All of them ready to defend us.

 

    “Fine. But good luck telling the label that you’ve fired me. I’m sure that will go over really well. See you in a few days when you all get your heads out of your asses,” Carl says before looking each of us in the face once last time before leaving the conference room.

 

    “Can we actually fire him?” Niall asks once we’re alone. Liam paces back and forth like an angry animal. Watching him, the way the muscles in his arms flex and release as he clenches his fists, it’s watching him like this that I finally understand it. That fire I saw burning in his eyes as he challenged Carl is the same fire that fuels me to stand here and take this risk. I can see it in Liam’s eyes: he would do anything to protect Zayn. By helping me protect Harry, he’s shielding Zayn from Carl as well.

 

    “I doubt anyone will give us any hassle over it. I’m prepared to make a statement about what he’s said about Harry, what he’s said to the pair of you, and how he’s threatened us as a band,” Liam states. At the mention of the word “threatened” Zayn visibly cringes. Liam collapses into a chair, sighing. Silently, Zayn sits in his lap, folding his body in against Liam’s chest. I watch as Liam’s hand skims up and down Zayn’s spine - like he’s trying to calm or console the raven haired boy.

 

    “Thank you, Liam. We - Harry and I - can’t thank you enough for sticking by us,” I say. I feel myself getting choked up. Liam and I meet eyes. He nods. There’s not much more either of us can say.

 

    “How uh...how’s Harry?” Niall asks. My heart rate picks up.

 

    “He’s okay. For now. Last night was bad. We uhm...we were up most of the night. He couldn’t calm down. He couldn’t breathe,” I try to explain. There’s really no way to describe the emotional mess that was last night.

 

 

_ “I need you,” Harry called out to me. If I hadn’t been on high alert, making sure I was listening for him, I might not have heard the small plea from inside the shower. I pulled off all my clothes and stepped into the shower behind Harry. He didn’t turn to look at me. What the fuck happened? _

 

_     “I’m right here. ‘M not goin’ anywhere,” I said gently. I ran my hands up his back, smoothing my fingers over his wet skin. _

 

_     “I...we need to find a way to make sure I don’t have to do that again,” he said. _

 

_     “What happened, Haz?” I asked, afraid of his answer. Then, I watched as my amazing, strong boyfriend crumbled into a crying mess. “Baby, what happened? Whatever it is, we can deal. We’ve got this. I’ve got you.” _

 

_     “There were so many paps,” Harry started. Sobs shook his body as Harry tried to get the words out. “There were so many paps. And they said they didn’t believe that I was with Taylor because of the song. They wouldn’t leave us alone. And then they started going after Lou, asking her for the scoop on what the real story was with you and me. And that made Lux upset and Taylor just sat there and did nothing. I panicked. Taylor must’ve been able to tell I was panicking and when I went to sit down and breathe for a minute, she kissed me.” _

 

_     I waited then, waited for the rest. When Harry didn’t proceed, I couldn’t help but laugh. Harry whirled around, nearly knocking himself over in the process, and stared at me. His expression was a mix of hurt and anger. _

 

_     “How can you possibly laugh?!” Harry demanded. The smell of tequila on his breath reminded me not to take his quips or shouting personally. _

 

_     “Harry...I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you,” I tried. I raised a hand to cup his face but he pushed me away. _

 

_     “No. Don’t touch me. You just laughed at me! I just spent hours with a girl I can’t stand to preserve our relationship. To make sure that people leave us and the rest of the band alone. I just spent hours walking around a stupid park with a girl I don’t like, pretending to be on a date so that the world will leave the love of my life alone. And then I come back and you fucking laugh at me for being upset?!” Harry shouted. Some of his words slurred together and my stomach fell. _

 

_     “No, I’m not laughing at you. I’m sorry if that’s what it seemed like, Harry. Really, I’m sorry. I’m just surprised. I assumed that you’d have to kiss her. I’m just surprised that you’re so upset about the kiss,” I explained. But that didn’t help either. _

 

_     “Oh so you expected me to kiss her? You expected me to go out on this date and treat it like the real thing? That doesn’t bother you?!” Harry spat. The crying had subsided and then I was met with a full frontal assault from an angry and very drunk Harry. _

 

_     “Of course it bothers me! How can you say that?! I’ve sat here all night, waiting for you to come back to me. You think I like this arrangement? Because I don’t. I hate it. But it’s what needs to be done. We talked about this. We agreed that doing this and making management happy was what the band needed. If you’ve changed your mind and don’t want to do this, that’s fine. But please don’t get angry at me,” I begged. When Harry didn’t respond, I continued, “Don’t you dare for one second think that I liked it, Harry. I hated sitting here, waiting for you to return. When you left to get in the shower, the first thing I did was smell your clothes. I needed to know if you smelled like her. Not because I don’t trust you. But because I needed to know. I needed to know if you’d had to go through that. I needed to know if you had to withstand going on a date and being physically close to someone just to make sure our relationship isn’t jeopardized. I needed to know if you had to do that for me. For us.” _

 

_     “I let her, Lou. I let her kiss me. And I kissed her back,” Harry said. His words hurt. But they didn’t break me. I’d been mentally preparing myself for such a moment. _

 

_     “It’s okay,” I told him gently. I watched as Harry’s eyes changed from anger back to sadness. _

 

_     “No. It’s not. I’m not okay,” Harry said. This...this is what I was afraid of. I can handle my own emotional bullshit drama. But Harry...knowing that Harry isn’t okay will be the end of me. I grabbed a hold of Harry’s arms and pulled him towards me. But he put up a fight. _

 

_     “Would you just let me hold you, please?” I begged. Harry shook his head back and forth, causing his thick curls to spray water into my eyes. _

 

_     “No. I smell like her. She touched me. I need to shower,” Harry said. He turned to grab a cloth to start washing himself but I stopped him. He didn’t meet my eyes. _

 

_     “Let me fix it,” I whispered. Harry doesn’t move. He doesn’t accept it. But he doesn’t move away either. I lifted my hands to cup his cheeks. “She kissed you on the lips.” _

 

_     “Yes,” Harry said. He looked down, shying away from me. But I didn’t let him. I pulled his face down to me and gently brushed my lips against his. I heard Harry’s breath catch in his throat. _

 

_     “She touched your hands?” I asked, letting my hands slip down Harry’s body to find his own. I let my fingers weave their way between his. Harry nodded. He gently squeezed my hands. _

 

_     “You don’t have to do this,” Harry said. He squeezed my hands one more time before trying to pull away again. But I didn’t let him. _

 

_     “I want to. Every inch that she touched or looked at...I want to replace it. She doesn’t matter, Harry. What matters is that you’re doing an incredibly brave thing to protect us. What matters is that right now, it’s just you and me. So let me help,” I said. And he did. _

 

 

    I remember back to the calm before the storm. I smile at the thought of Harry’s skin against mine. And the sex...well the sex is always great. That’s one thing we always do well. But after the mind blowing sex, after we’d gone to bed. that’s when it got bad.

 

    “What happened?” Niall asks. The genuine concern etched into my friends features makes me sad.

 

    “He had nightmares. Several,” I tell them. Niall’s mouth sets into a firm line.

 

    “I’d have nightmares about that mess too,” Zayn says, chuckling to himself. I know he’s trying to lighten the mood. But I can’t help the next words out of my mouth.

 

    “No. He had nightmares that I left him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.s. sorry for the formatting being different. I'm having the worst time trying to just post this freaking chapter. Does not want to work for me.
> 
> Also, I apologize for the mismatching chapter numbers. It'll drive me crazy so I will fix it. Promise.


	14. Kiss You

**Chapter 13: Kiss You**

 

    The small whimpers coming from Harry are like music to my ears. I watch as beads of sweat drip down his spine.

    “Almost there,” he rasps. I wait for him to get closer, closer to the edge. I push some hair away from my forehead and wait. Within seconds, he's done.

    “That looks incredible,” I tell him. Harry stands back to admire his work. We'd been working on hanging our new artwork for the last ten minutes. I watch as Harry carefully climbs back down the ladder that's leaning against the wall. Harry hadn't been too thrilled when I decided the painting would look great outside in the little three season deck next to the pool. He'd mumbled about it being too hot outside to go climbing up like a monkey but he'd done it anyways.

    I'm not a weakling by any means but holding up a painting for several minutes while your boyfriend takes his sweet time securing the panel isn't exactly pleasurable. I shake out my arms, letting the heaviness slip away. Harry chuckles as he watches me.

    “Thanks, love. And thanks for helping. I wouldn't have been able to hold it at the same time,” Harry says, kissing my cheek. I can't help but smile. Things had gotten better since firing Carl. The label hadn't been pleased but we dealt with it.

    “No problem. Now go in and shower so we can go,” I instruct him. Harry looks down at himself, then looks back up to me, smirking.

    “What? Not a fan of the rugged look?” he teases. In all honesty, the “rugged” look worked surprisingly well for Harry. I think he only owns one pair of baggy-fit jeans and they're his work pants. They're smudged with various colours of paint from all the times I changed my mind on the colour scheme for our house.

    While I'd spent most of the day inside writing and cleaning up a bit, Harry had spent the entire time outside. He mowed the grass out front and in the back, cleared out the weeds next to the pool, laid out some new mulch, and now had hung up our new painting in the pool house. Throughout these activities, Harry had lost his shirt, gotten quite dirty, and was actually dripping sweat. I couldn't help but let my eyes wander across his body to fixate on the moisture that was slipping down his stomach. The sweat crept down his skin, leaving a path towards where his V-line disappeared into the low slung jeans.

    “Oh I am. But you cannot go to dinner with our mums looking like that,” I say, laughing at him. Harry looks at me in a way that makes my knees weak.  _ Honestly. Walk away, Tommo. Otherwise you'll never get out of here tonight. _

    “We don't have to go,” Harry says, following me across the grass back to the house. I shake my head at him and jog up the deck stairs.

    “Oh yes we do. You and I both know they'll kill us if we reschedule again,” I point out. I'm about to open the slider when my body is pressed up against the glass. Harry's  breath pushes down the back of my neck, making me shiver despite the California heat.

    “Do you want to know what I'd rather do?” Harry asks. His hands grip my hips and I feel his erection against the small of my back.

    “Obviously you'd prefer to get your dirty sweatiness all over me,” I say, trying to sound annoyed. Harry shifts a little lower and grinds his hips against my ass. Despite Harry being the receiver in this relationship, feeling his cock pushing against me in this way drives me wild. And Harry knows that. 

    “I want...” he starts, dropping his mouth to my neck. “I want you to take me upstairs. I want you to tie me down. Tell me what a dirty boy I am. And then I want you to make me beg for your cock.”

    And then we were very late for dinner.

 

 

    “Harold, don't tell me to be here at seven if you don't plan on being here yourself until eight. The only reason I'm not furious with you is because I've had a lovely chat with Jay,” Harry's mum, Anne, scolds when we finally make our appearance. I feel my face get hot under my mum's stare.

    “Same goes for you, mister,” my mum says. I look up to meet her eyes and sigh in relief when I see that she's smiling at me.

    “We're sorry. Truly,” Harry says with a hint of smile to his voice.

    “You were once very punctual, Harry. I don't know what happened to that,” Anne teases. Harry rolls his eyes just before my mum jumps right in.

    “Louis has never been punctual. He's perpetually late for everything. I think we can blame this on my boy,” my mum says, smiling at Anne.  _ Oh good. Now they've teamed up. We're done for. _

    “Oi. Who's side are you on anyways?” I laugh. My mum takes a sip of her wipe and smiles.

    “Hers, obviously,” she laughs. I look to Harry who's grinning from ear to ear. It makes me happy to see him happy. I lean over to kiss him but catch myself. Harry notices and gives me a small, sad smile. Then I feel his fingers brush my knee.  _ You can't even kiss him. You can't kiss your own boyfriend in public. _

    “This dining room is rather loud. I think I'll go ask about a private area,” Anne announces. Before we can protest, she's up and away from the table. Moments later, she returns with a host in tow.

    “Good evening. Now that your entire table has arrived, I'd be more than happy to seat you in a private room,” he says, smiling at us. We follow him through the restaurant to a quiet corner and through a set of beautiful French doors. Inside is a small, dining room.

    “This is perfect. Thank you so much,” my mum gushes. The host dips his head and excuses himself to fetch us waters. 

    “You didn't have to do that, mum. We're capable of behaving,” Harry says. I know he's trying to make light of this but it still makes me sad.

    “I know. You're both...what did you call it? ‘Media-trained mega stars’? I know you can behave. But I'd rather have a relaxed dinner in a private area so our boys can be themselves,” Anne says. She reaches across the table and squeezes Harry's arm.

    “Thanks, mum,” he says, smiling warmly. I would give anything to keep that smile on his face.

    “So. Let's get the work questions out of the way first, shall we? When can we expect this album? I know you're writing. When are you going to start recording?” my mum asks.

    “We're actually done writing. And we started recording earlier this week. It'll take a while to solidify everything. The new handler is great though,” Harry says. Our new handler, Max, is very nice. We'd insisted that the label let us meet him prior to any decisions being made. We were very upfront with him. It was actually the first time we'd really addressed what happened honestly with anyone.

 

_     “Hello. I'm Louis. This is my boyfriend, Harry. Contrary to what the label may have told you, we are genuinely together. Genuinely romantically involved. So if you have a problem with that or will go out of your way to cause problems, well I'm sorry but we don't need that in our lives,” I explained. Max looked at us quizzically. _

_     “Why would your relationship be of any concern to me?” he asked, clearly confused. Harry and I exchanged a look. _

_     “The label didn't tell you? Management didn't tell you?” Harry asked. Max looked between us and shook his head. _

_     “We fired our last handler because he was verbally abusive to Harry. He was not supportive of our relationship and rather than speak to us like adults, he treated us like children and belittled our relationship. It got quite bad,” I told him. Max looked at us in horror.  _

_     “Good God. I'm...I'm so sorry that happened to you. Your relationship is none of my business. Well it is, but not like that. I take it the label and your management wants to keep that under wraps, yeah?” Max asked. Harry and I nodded. Max sighed. “I can't promise I'll always be able to defend you or that I'll always be your favourite person. But I can promise to always treat you with respect.” _

_     Harry and I looked around to each of our friends. Everyone nodded. _

_     “Welcome to the 1D family.” _

 

    “Shouldn't be long now. Max is a great advocate for us. This time around is easier. He's not allowing the studios to dictate our recording hours,” I explain. Anne and my mum each breathe a sigh of relief.

    “Good. I'm glad. We'd all been a bit worried about you lads with the first album. The hours were mad,” Anne says. She's right. The first album was thrown together quickly. Despite several of us being underage, the label and studios got away with punishing schedules. One day, we spent nearly fifteen hours at the studio. 

    The rest of dinner goes by smoothly. There's playful and relaxed banter. Anne and my mum are clearly getting on well. Rather than Harry sneaking small touches under the table like usual, he's got his arm draped over the back of my chair. Every so often, I feel his fingers brush my shoulder.

    “Jay, I'd love to have you and the family over for a meal,” Anne says as we're finishing up with dessert. I've taken my attention off the conversation and find myself completely focused on Harry who's currently dragging his finger through a bit of chocolate sauce left over on our plate. He holds his finger up in front of my mouth. I glance nervously to our mums but they're so deep in conversation, it's like Harry and I don't even exist.

    “Do it,” Harry commands in a low whisper that only I can hear. With another glance to our company, I quickly comply. The sweetness meets my tongue and I close my eyes. Licking chocolate sauce off of Harry may or may not be a fantasy of mine. The clearing of a throat startles me and I nearly fall out of my chair. Harry chuckles, wiping his finger on his napkin.

    “Forgive me for interrupting, but I've got to be going,” Anne laughs. I feel my face ignite as I mutter an apology. “Oh don't apologize. I didn't mean to embarrass you.”

    “Thank you for joining us,” Harry says. We all get up and hug. My face is still on fire when Anne pulls me to her chest.

    “Thank you for not giving up on my boy. He loves you so much,” Anne whispers to me. I look up to see if Harry can hear but he's wrapped up in my mum's arms, whispering to her.

    “I love him too. More than words can express,” I say. Anne pulls back, smiles at me, and kisses my cheek. Then at the same time, both our mums say, “Take care of my boy,”

    “I can see that this is going to be the start of a beautiful friendship,” my mum smiles at Anne. Harry and I watch as they wave goodbye and then stroll out, arm in arm.

    “We're done for, aren't we?” Harry asks, sighing. I can't help but laugh.

    “Yep.”

 

 

    “Haz, how much higher do you think you can go there?” Mike asks through the speaker. Mike is one of the producers and is incredibly patient with us. But he's also one for pushing our limits. I watch as Harry rubs at his throat and then takes a sip of his tea.

    “Like how much higher?” he asks. Mike looks down for a moment, probably consulting the planned track.

     "Like two steps? I think it's really going to round out the section if we can get you up there for a few bars,” Mike explains.

    “I can probably get up there for a note or two but I think a few bars is going to be pushing it,” Harry admits. He looks disappointed. 

    “Can we do a harmony to get him up there and then the rest of us will drop off?” I suggest. Mike looks to his left to one of the mixers, Cole.

    “Yeah that should work,” Mike concludes. We decide to take a quick break and then give it another go. We've been at this one particular song for awhile now and I can tell Harry is fading fast.

    “Thank you,” Harry says, giving me a small smile. I nod and smile back. Despite Harry having an incredible voice, he seems to be more confident in his high notes if we harmonize up to them.

    “Of course, babe,” I say, the pet name slipping out. We both look up to the recording booth but no one is looking at us. They must have turned the comms off. I quickly apologize and take a step away from Harry.  _ I hate this.  _ It's been months since we debuted Little Things. People are still buzzing about the lyrics. Being on guard all the time is killing me.

    “Alright, lads. Let's give this another couple shots and then we'll put it away for the day,” Mike announces. It takes a few tries to find a harmony that works for us but when we find it, oh man does it work. We set Harry up for the note and then fall out as he belts out the phrase. He projects so much that the guys in the sound booth cringe a bit. But it's good. In fact, it's really good. Before even looking to the booth, I know that's gonna be a wrap for this part.

    “And there it is. Nice work. Okay let's press on. Switching to ‘Little Things’. Let's give you guys a vocal break before tackling ‘I Would’,” Mike announces. I can't help the laugh that bubbles up out of my chest. Harry, ever on the same page, joins me, doubling over as he laughs. Niall and Liam take a few more moments to catch on and Zayn takes the longest. But before long, we're all busting at the seams. Everyone in the sound booth looks at us like we're nuts but doesn't ask. I smile and shake my head, remembering the last jam session we'd had at our house. 

 

_ “Feels like I'm constantly playing _ __   
_ A game that I'm destined to lose _ __   
_ 'Cause I can't compete with my boyfriend _ _   
_ __ He's got twenty seven tattoos”

_     I sang out the lyrics with such confidence and conviction that I think I almost got away with it. Almost. _

_ “Would he say -” _

_     “Hey wait a minute,” Liam shouted, cutting everyone off. I gripped my stomach, laughing. _

_     “I love you but I'll kill you,” Niall threatened. He got up and went into the kitchen, returning moments later with an armful of beers. He passed them out and rejoined. us on the floor. _

_     “Your lyric changes will be the death of me,” Liam laughed. We ran through “I Would” a few more time before switching gears. _

_     “I really want to go through ‘Over Again’,” Zayn said. My stomach fell. I'd been dreading that song. It's a good song. The guys all love it. But it's incredibly personal. _

_     “Yeah alright,” I agreed. And we ran the track. It was easier than I expect but I could see our friends eyes on me. _

_     “This is really good, Lou,” Niall said. He reached out and squeezed my knee. I nodded. I know it's a good song. But a piece of me still regrets sharing it with the band. _

 

    “Alright, boys. Let's run it,” Mike says, shaking me from the memory. We all take our places.

    “Let's make sure the lyrics are on point this time, Tommo,” Zayn says poking fun at me. I flip him off and then we plunge into the music.

 

 

    “Lou, if you keep that up, I'll never get this finished,” Harry protests as I run my nose along his shoulder blade. He's standing at the stove, trying to sautee some vegetables but I'm much more interested in causing trouble.

    “Dinner can wait,” I tell him. Harry protests again, saying something about requiring food to survive. But I'm not listening. I'm focusing on doing all the things that I know drive him wild. Like reaching up into his curls and gently massaging his scalp. Just as he starts to hum in appreciation, I gently tug on his hair. Just enough to make his breath catch. Then I let my hands slip down his body to rest on his hips. I grip them tightly and softly push my hips into his ass. But it's not until I nibble at the skin on his shoulder that I feel Harry's self control begin to unravel.

    “You're impossible,” Harry sighs. He reaches out to turn the stove off, moves the pan to another burner, and turns around in my arms. I lean forward, eliminating the gap between us.

    “I love you. Now let me kiss you,” I whisper against his lips. I feel Harry's mouth pull up into a smile. Harry scoops me up and carries me into the living room. We go tumbling onto the couch, a mess of limbs and kisses.

    “I love you too,” he says. I'll never get tired of these words. Ever.

    “Show me,” I tell him. This has become sort of a code word for us. We engage in two very different kind of sex. There's the rough, desperate, hot as fuck sex. This is the kind where limits are pushed and we try new things. And then there's the “Show me” sex. Slow, sensual sex that leaves us breathless for totally different reasons. “Show me” sex, funny enough doesn't last as long. There's something about the deliberate passion that sends both of us over the edge quickly.

    “You're a fan of the passion lately, huh?” Harry smiles. He slowly pushes me onto the couch and crawls on top of me, straddling my hips. I reach up and pull him down to me for a kiss. It's deep. Deep, slow, and amazing. 

    “I'm always a fan of passion,” I tell him. Harry smiles and leans down onto my cock which is already hard.

    “I am too. But I want...rough...hard...fucking. I want you to make me use a safe word,” Harry says. His words shoot straight to my groin.

    “Oh yeah? What else do you want?” I ask. I like when Harry goes into detail.

    “I want,” Harry starts, leaving kisses and bites all over my neck. “You to take me. Right here. I want you to fuck me so hard that I won't be able to walk straight. I want you to push me. Whip me, spank me, call me dirty names. All of it,” he says.

    “You're very demanding. You didn't behave this morning, did you? I seem to remember a very rude awakening,” I say, referencing being kicked awake. Harry looks at me through desire filled eyes.

    “Sounds like I need to be punished,” Harry whispers, bring his mouth back to mine.

    “Go upstairs and get undressed,” I instruct. Harry flies off my lap and up the stairs with such an eagerness, you'd think I just offered him a million dollars rather than agreeing he needs to be punished. Laughing to myself, I climb the stairs after him. Nothing could have prepared me for the next few moments.

    I walk into our room and I'm immediately drenched in cold water. I jump back and swear. Harry is standing in front of me, holding a now empty bowl and giggling. I hold up my hands and yell at him, demanding to know what his issue is.

    “Trying to piss you off,” he says. I watch as Harry then strips off his clothes and stares me down - almost like he's challenging me.

    “And what has possessed you to do that?!” I shout. Harry gets right up in my face.

    “Because. The only time you get me even close to needing a safe word is when you're mad. Unless you don't think you can that is. Maybe you're too afraid,” Harry says, pushing me. I grab his hips and shove him backwards onto the bed.

    “Be careful what you ask for, Styles,” I warn him. Harry rolls his eyes.

    “Is that supposed to scare me?” he asks. Then, I watch as his eyes go wide when my fingers go to my belt, slowly taking it off. 

    “No. Just a friendly caution. Turn over,” I tell him. Harry's eyes change. The playfulness is replaced by desire and nervousness. When Harry doesn't move, I tell him again, my voice raising a bit. This time, he does as he's told. “One of these days, you'll learn to listen the first time I tell you to do something.”

    “Yes, sir,” Harry whispers. With my belt in my hand, I take a deep breath. We've not done this before. We have a riding crop that Harry thoroughly enjoys but that's for pleasure. I've tried flogging him as punishment but that turned to pleasure quickly. Harry's pain tolerance is much higher than I'd expected it to be.

    “I'm going to hit you three times. This is for punishment. Tell me what you're being punished for,” I command. This is the script. I vowed early on to draw clear lines between pleasure and punishment. Harry seems to like this and takes it seriously.

    “For kicking you this morning,” he says, his words slightly muffled by the sheets.

    “And…?” I ask, leading him to continue. Harry wiggles a bit on the bed.

    “For mouthing off,” he finishes. I rest my hand on the small of Harry's back.

    “Up on your hands and knees,” I tell him. He does as he's told and waits patiently. “Three times, okay?”

    “Yes, sir. Do I need to count?” he asks. My dominant side shrinks down a bit. He sounds scared. But I trust him to trust me.

    “No. Just breathe,” I say softly. I yell at myself for being soft with him when I'm about to punish him. Pushing the thought away, I take a deep breath and step away. Another deep breath, I pull my arm back, and let the belt connect with his ass. The crack of the leather meeting Harry's skin is louder than I expect.

    “YELLOW!” Harry immediately shouts. I freeze. He's never even used yellow before. 

    “You sure?” I ask, wanting to make sure it's a clear yellow and not red. Harry is breathing heavy and he doesn't respond right away. I drop the belt to the floor and wait for the okay to touch him. Once upon a time, when Harry and I had first talked about punishments, he's said that I was to wait until he gave me permission to touch him after.

    “Okay. Keep going,” Harry says softly. Now I'm confused. He gave a safe word. 

    “What's your number?” I ask. Another system we'd set up. Numbers one through ten. One being totally fine, no issues and ten being extreme pain or anxiety. As far as I'm concerned, an eight or higher is treated the same as “red”.

    “Seven,” Harry answers. I don't move, considering my options. Harry isn't getting up. He's not moving away. But I'm afraid to keep going. Harry must hear my thoughts because he says, “green light.”

    “Ok,” I say. I reach down to grab my belt and realize how painfully hard I am. Never did I think I'd get this turned on from whipping my boyfriend with my belt.

    I take another breath and whip him again. Harry gasps and leans forward a bit, away from me. There are two angry welts on his left cheek. I take a step to the side and deliver the third to his right cheek. I drop the belt again and wait for permission. He takes a few moments and then very quietly, I hear him ask for me.

    “Please,” he begs. I carefully crawl up onto the bed with him. I'm suddenly nervous to touch him. I lay down and pull him into my chest. 

    “You did so well. I'm very proud of you,” I tell him. I learned early on that Harry is a big fan of praise.

    “Was I a good boy?” he asks. I use my index finger to tilt his chin up to me. I'm relieved to see that he's not upset. In fact, his pupils are still wide with desire.

    “A very good boy. And now I want you,” I tell him. Harry smiles and gets up to straddle me. To my surprise, Harry is rock hard. 

    “You liked that didn't you?” I ask. Harry looks down shyly but nods anyways.

    “Yes,” he admits. I smile and pull him down to my lips.

    “I did too,” I tell him. Part of me expected the punishment to set us up for slow, passionate sex afterwards. I assumed Harry would want tender touches. But he surprises me by biting down on my neck. Hard. A growl rips through my chest. He knows how much I like biting.

    I reach into the bedside table and grab the lube, condoms, and a toy.

    “Actually, can you give me a moment?” he asks. I smile and tell him yes. Then I settle back into our pillows. I watch as Harry gets up and disappears into the bathroom. He's in there for awhile and then I hear the shower turn on. Harry has this thing about showering before we have sex. I'm not complaining. I know he's all worried about being clean and I appreciate that he wants to be clean. But sometimes he takes forever. A quick bird bath is sufficient.

    I'm about to go knock on the door when he finally emerges.

    “You really know how to give a guy blue balls,” I tease him. Harry doesn't say anything. He just walks back the bed and climbs on top of me and starts rubbing himself against my erection. I find that he's already applied lube because I slip against his skin easily.

    “You need some patience, Tomlinson,” Harry says quietly. I lean forward, kissing his chest. My fingers dance across his skin, pausing to pinch a nipple. I smile at the shudder that rolls through his body.

    “How much more prep do you need?” I ask as I push my cock against his ass. Harry catches his bottom lip between his teeth and sighs. Then, he leans forward a bit, lines me up with his entrance, and sinks down onto me. I throw my head back and moan.

    “I don't want slow. I want fast. And hard,” Harry tells me. I watch as Harry begins a steady pace, bouncing up and down on my lap. My hands grip his hips, helping to slam him back down.

    “Fuck, baby,” I swear. Just as I'm really starting to enjoy it, Harry gets off my lap. I open my mouth to protest but Harry stuffs his hard erection past my lips.  _ This is different. Harry doesn't ever take control. I think I like this.  _

    “Suck that cock. Ugh yeah. Just like that,” Harry moans. I feel my cock twitch at his words. Harry isn't usually into dirty talk. I bring my focus back to sucking him off and enjoying the sounds escaping his throat.

    Before I know it, Harry is pulling away and flipping over onto his hands and knees. What a sight he is. Smooth pale skin, ass in the air, waiting patiently. I waste no time in getting behind him and positioning myself at his entrance. That's when Harry starts to beg for it.

    “I like when you beg,” I tell him. I take my hands and run then down his back slowly before settling on his hips.

    “Please. I need your cock. Fuck me. Please fuck me,” Harry whines. So I give him what he wants. I plow into him, eliciting a string of swears from both of us.

    “Even prepped, you're still so tight for me,” I hiss. Harry grinds his bottom back into me, urging me to move.  _ So impatient. _

    “Fuck me. Now,” he commands. I do as I'm told and start to move inside him. I pull back and then sink back in, watching my cock disappear inside him. I love watching but soon, the slow pace is getting more difficult to maintain. It doesn't help that Harry is demanding that I fuck him harder.

    “Would you be quiet? Don't make me gag you,” I joke. Harry chuckles but keeps instigating. 

     "What else do I have to do for you to go harder?” Harry whines. I lean down and nip at the skin on his back. 

    “Be careful what you wish for, baby. Could leave you not being able to sit for a few days,” I threaten. Without even missing a beat, Harry responds.

    “Yeah? I'd love to see that. I don't think you've got it in you,” he says. Even though I can't see his face, I can hear the smile tugging at his mouth.  _ Alright. He asked for it. _ I reach out and grab a fistful of Harry's hair. I grip it tightly and pull back. Harry let's out a moan as I slam into him. Using his hair as leverage, I find a good pace. Not long after, Harry is panting and whining the way he does just before he cums.

   “Don't cum yet,” I growl at him. Harry looks back at me over his shoulder. 

    “What?!” he complains. I let go of my hold on his hair and use both hands to push Harry's chest down onto the bed. Then I grab his hips and fuck him with everything I have. He feels amazing. His walls clench around me as I plow into him. Maybe he should get me mad more often. This sex is so much better. Feels so much better.

    “I said ‘don't cum yet’. I want you to cum with me,” I tell him. My voice is thick with desire. Harry is begging again.

    “Baby, please. I'm so close. Ugh! Harder. I want your cum,” Harry cries. Without warning, I flip Harry over so we're face to face. I do it because I want to look into his eyes when he cums. But in flipping him, I realize why the sex feels so good. I never put a condom on.

    “Fuck. Haz, I'm bare. I never put a condom on,” I tell him, kicking myself for being so dumb and having to ruin this. I pull out and move to get a condom. But Harry stops me. Actually, he nearly tackles me. I'm powerless as my boyfriend pushes me back against the headboard and mounts me again. Harry impales himself completely, sinking all the way down onto my cock.

    “Don't you dare pull out of me again,” Harry says. I don't know why, but this causes a shift. Suddenly, I'm ready to burst and my entire body feels like it's on fire. Harry's words sink in and I feel myself approaching the edge. There seems to be a shift in Harry too because he's no longer demanding that I fuck him harder. Instead, he lifts his hips just a fraction before sliding back down. The movement, while it's small, causes me to moan.

    “Baby,” I groan. My arms snake around Harry's waist, holding him to my chest. My tongue flicks across his nipple and I smile as the curly haired boy moans my name.

    “I want you to cum inside me. I wanna feel you cum inside me. Please,” Harry moans.  _ Yup. That'll do it. _ Without pulling out, I push Harry back and settle over him. He immediately pulls his knees up, allowing me deeper access. But I stop him. I grab his hands and place them on my shoulders. I'd much rather feel close to him than focus on getting in as deep as possible.

    “I love you. I'm so in love with you,” I tell him softly. A smile creeps across Harry's face and his eyes start to water. Harry pulls me down to him, our lips crushing together. He raises his hips to meet mine, encouraging me to keep going. So I do. I stare into his eyes the whole time. Harry's whimpers tell me he's getting close again.  _ Finally.  _

    “I love you,” Harry whispers. And then I watch as the orgasm rips through his body. Harry's walls clench around me again and he throws his head back, moaning. “Oh fuck. Yeah. Ugh don't stop. Don't stop. Oooh fuck, Lou!" I watch as burst after burst of cum shoots out onto our skin.

    Watching him fall apart is all it takes to send me catapulting into my own release. I pull into him a few more times and then cum inside him. I drop my face to the side of his neck and bite down. I suck a mark onto his skin, knowing it going to be a decent bruise. 

    “Fuck,” I breathe when the waves of pleasure finally subside. I fall to the side, pulling Harry with me.

    “No let me get up. I'm going to spill on the sheets,” Harry says. I quiet him by pressing my lips to his.

    “Hush. We'll change the sheets. Just lay here with me and let me kiss you.”


	15. Everything About You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize that this chapter is so short. I had to set a few things up in here for up coming chapters. I'm already working on the next chapter though so keep an eye out.
> 
> Much love,
> 
> Aria ♡

**Chapter 14: Everything About You**

 

    “I think we need to talk,” Harry says. I'd learned long ago that this phrase, while ominous to nearly everyone else in the world, is nothing noteworthy coming from my Hazza. 

    “Alright. What about, love?” I ask. I don't bother to look up from my notebook and just listen patiently. Harry decides this isn't enough of my attention, however, and I giggle as he pulls me down onto his lap. I toss the notebook aside and snuggle into his chest. 

    “I want to talk about the other night. When we had sex,” Harry says.

    “You're going to have to be a bit more specific, babe,” I chuckle at him. In the last week or so, we'd been leading a very... _ healthy _ ...sex life.

    “When we didn't use a condom,” he clarifies.

    “Alright. What about it?” I ask, genuinely intrigued now. Harry's fingers twist in the edge of my hoodie, fraying more of fabric.

    “I'm sorry. That I didn't ask,” he apologizes. Now he's got me confused.

    “Come again?” I ask. I look up and see Harry's eyebrows knitted together like he's concerned.

    “I'm sorry that I didn't really give you much of a choice in it. I should have let you pull out if you wanted to. I just wanted to be close to you,” Harry says a single tear spills out of his eye.

    “Aw, love, don't cry. I'm not angry. Not a bit. I liked it,” I tell him honestly. Harry sniffs and turns his face away. I use my fingers to gently bring him back to look at me.

    “I think we've got something else to talk about though, yeah?” I suggest. I'd been waiting for the right time to bring up the safe word incident. 

    “Okay…” Harry says, his voice trailing off.

    “How did you feel about the punishment?” I ask. This seems like the most logical place to start.

    “Uhm. Well I don't think anyone necessarily wants to be punished. But I misbehaved. And afterward, you said I was a good boy. So the entire...experience, I guess, was good,” Harry says, his cheeks blushing more with every word. I smile and stretch up to kiss his lips briefly.

    “Honestly, I was quite impressed with you,” I tell him. Harry's face nuzzles down onto my hair.

    “Why?” his voice is muffled as he traces his lips down to my neck.

    “Because you did something outside your comfort zone. And you trusted me. I know you trusted me because you let me keep going after you used a safe word. What was that about anyways? Was it pain or anxiety?” I ask. Harry sighs and hides his face on my neck, making me laugh. “Why are you hiding?”

    “Don't laugh at me,” Harry whines. This only makes me laugh harder, despite my best efforts to keep myself under control.

    “I'm not laughing at you. You're just silly. Your reaction is silly. We're just talking,” I say trying to defend myself. Though it's not a convincing argument when small chuckles are still bubbling up in between my words.

    “The safe word...well at first I used it because I thought it was pain. It sent my anxiety through the roof. Like beyond a ten. But then after a moment, it didn't really hurt. Well it hurt but not in a bad way. I said ‘yellow’ because in that moment, I didn't know what it was. But then...well then I thought about...you know. You. And when you took off your belt. And the look in your eyes. And the pain...I mean it was a lot. More than I expected. But it was a punishment that I deserved. I need to be taught to behave. And then...well I told you to keep going,” Harry says. His voice is barely above a whisper but it's just enough that I can hear the husky weight in his words. He's getting turned on.

    “Why did you tell me to keep going? If the anxiety was that bad? Why tell me to keep going?” I ask. I have a feeling I know what his answer will be. But I really want to hear those words.

    “Because...b-because I liked it,” Harry manages. His breath is getting quicker.

    “Liked what, baby? Need you to be specific,” I say, taking the opportunity to turn into his chest and nose at his neck. Harry's head falls back a bit against the couch. I encourage him again to tell me what he liked.

    “I liked p-pleasing you. I needed to be p-punished. And I like when you tell me I'm a good boy. I wanted to be a good boy for you,” he says carefully.  _ That's not all of it. There's definitely more. _

    “Is that it?” I ask. Harry shakes his head. I wait for him to finish. 

    “I...got hard. When you hit me. The belt hurt. I know it was for a punishment. But...I pictured you standing behind me and whipping me with your belt...and I got hard. I wanted more,” he finally says. It's a real struggle to keep my breathing even.

    “And...would you like more now?” I ask, staring into Harry's eyes. The green pools flare with desire.

    “Yes, please.”

 

 

    “Hey, Tommo. Listen, I need your help with something,” Liam says. It's not unusual for Liam to call me. However, it is odd for him to call me this early. The clock face on my phone tells me it's only just past six in the morning. Somewhere in my head, I start thinking of lyrics.

_ Every minute’s like the last so let’s just take it real slow _ _  
_ _ Forget about the clock that's tick-tick-ticking _

    Something about living in the moment. Pushing the words away, I focus back on my friend.

    “Can it wait until the sun is awake?” I ask, not moving from my spot. My back is currently pressed up against Harry's chest and Harry's arm is draped over me heavily. It's a warm, safe little cocoon. 

    “The sun is up. But no, it can't wait,” he says. His voice sounds a bit elevated, like he's stressed out or something. Sighing, I slip out of Harry's vice grip.

    “Louuu where are you going?” Harry complains, reaching out for me. I tell him to go back to sleep and gently kiss his forehead before leaving him in our room. Shutting the door as quietly as I can, I then make my way down to the kitchen for tea.

    “This had better be something Earth-shattering, Payno. I was quite comfortable all wrapped up in a naked God,” I tease as I turn on the faucet to fill the kettle. Liam chuckles and then speaks.

    “Earth-shattering. Ha. Uhm sure. Well how's this...I just fucked Niall.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ♡ cliff hangers. Sorry, not sorry. :)


	16. C'mon C'mon & Stockholm Syndrome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double chapter. Woo hoo.

**Chapter 15: C’mon C’mon**

    There were dozens of things Liam could have said. All of which seemed logical and could even be expected. This, however, was not logical or expected.

    “I'm sorry...I don't think I heard you,” I say. Liam sighs heavily.

    “Oh no. You did. I just fucked Niall. Spent the night with Niall...in bed. We fucked,” Liam tells me. There's something odd and detached about his words. Like maybe he rehearsed them before calling me.

    “Oh. Uhm...was it...no. Uhm. Are you and Zayn like...through?” I ask when I finally pick my jaw up off the floor. Liam sighs again.

    “Can I come over? I don't know what the hell I'm doing and I don't know where to go. Niall is asleep in my bed and I obviously can't go to Zayn’s right now,” Liam says. On his end, I can hear a clicking. _Turn signal maybe?_

    “Yeah of course you can. How far away are you?” I ask. Liam chuckles and I hear crunching in our gravel driveway.

    “About ten feet,” he says. I shake my head and hang up, waiting for my friend to walk through the door. When we finally does, I'm shocked at the sight in front of me.

    “Fuck,” I breathe, taking in the sight. Liam looks awful. Like he's holding on by a thread. Liam walks in, kicks off his shoes by the door, and then folds himself into my chest. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, hugging him.

    “I fucked up so bad,” Liam whispers. I nod, not knowing what else to say.

    “I'm gonna put on some water for tea and then we'll set up camp in the living room,” I tell him. Liam slips out of the hug, agrees, and then goes to deposit himself onto the couch. _What the fuck?_

    I go back to the sink to finish filling the kettle with water. I have a feeling this is going to require lots of tea.  


**Liam’s P.O.V.** (Surprise!)

    I watch as Louis floats around his kitchen. He looks so calm and carefree. It took a lot for me not to laugh when I initially walked in and saw his chest. Yet again, the small Doncaster lad is COVERED in love bites. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wonder what my own neck and chest look like. It can't be pretty but Lou doesn't mention it.

    “It'll be a few minutes on the tea. Do you want something to eat?” Louis offers. He stands there at the edge of the kitchen, arms folded across his chest, and looking nervous.

    “I don't think I can eat,” I say honestly. Louis gives me a sad look and then retreats to the pantry.

    “Here,” he says, handing me a candy bar. _Aww little Boobear. Always has his special reserve of chocolate._

    “Thanks,” I sigh. I open it up and take a bite. I know it should taste good. I love chocolate. But the taste makes my stomach churn. Louis goes back to preparing our tea. I’m dreading telling him about this. But I need to tell someone.

    “Here,” Lou says, holding out a steaming mug to me. _That took way less time than I’d hoped._ I take the mug and force a smile. Louis sits down on the couch, facing me, and sighs. “Alright. What the fuck happened?”

    I honestly don’t even know where to begin. I use my thumb to trace the rim of the steaming mug.

    “Lou...I don’t even know how it happened,” I tell him. I look up to meet Lou’s gaze. He's staring at me - but not in a judgemental way. Just like he's simply waiting for me to continue. I take a deep breath. _How am I supposed to tell him how badly I fucked up?_

    “Oh c’mon….it's just me, Li,” Louis says, no doubt trying to relax me. It.doesn't help though.

    “I don't know where to start,” I admit.

    “If you’d like, I can ask questions and you can just answer. Like a yes or no or single word answer type of thing. It might be easier to get it out,” Louis suggests. It’s a good idea.

    “Yeah, that could work,” I agree. Louis smiles and then jumps right in.

    “Did you actually have sex?”

    “Yes.”

    “Were you drinking?”

    “No.”

    “Was he drinking?”

    “No.”

    “Were either of you high?”

    “No, Lou. We were both completely sober,” I spit. I don’t mean for the words to come out so harshly. But Louis doesn’t seem phased at all.

    “Okay. So...you guys had sober sex. How did it...start?” Louis asks cautiously. I set my tea down on the end table and let my head fall back onto the couch. _How did it start?_ Despite the ridiculous mess I’m in, I feel a smile tugging at my lips from the memories.

  


_“Nialler! What’s up, buddy?!” I shouted. I could picture the blonde boy beaming at me._

_“Hey, Li! Was wondering if you wanted to hang out? Harry and Louis are still in their little cocoon and Zayn said he’s sick. But I’m bored out of my mind,” Niall said. I pulled into my designated parking space and got out of my car._

_“Yeah. Zee’s been laid up for two days. He says it’s food poisoning from that chinese place we went the night we finished super late at the studio. But I think he’s actually genuinely sick,” I laughed. I locked my car and jogged the short distance to the elevator. “Do you wanna come by and hang out or go out or what?”_ _  
_

_“Why don’t we stay in. We’re going to have so many appearances in the next few weeks to promote the album,” Niall said. He had a fair point. We agreed that Niall would run home to grab a few things and then we’d spend the night hanging out on my couch. I let myself into my flat and set about preparing dinner._

_“I think that was record time, Ni,” I called out from the kitchen when I heard my door open. Niall chuckled and kicked his shoes off. Joining me in the kitchen, Niall playfully punched my shoulder._

_“Long time no see,” he joked. We’d all been together just the day before - sans Zayn - to work on editing._

_“I knew you’d miss me,” I said, hip checking him from the side. The playful banter with Niall was easy. Nearly everything about our friendship was easy. The issue we really seemed to have was Zayn._

_“Yeah yeah yeah,” Niall said as he rolled his eyes. We threw together a mexican casserole and then flopped down on the couch to watch a movie while it baked. Niall chose an action flick that we’d each see several times. Nevertheless, it was a good movie. Near the beginning though, there’s a pretty hot sex scene. Everytime, without fail, I get turned on. In the scene, the two main characters get into a heated argument which then quickly turns into an intense make out session and eventually sex._

_“I always forget about this scene,” I groaned. Niall laughed at me and made a big show of flinging a pillow down onto my lap. We went back and forth rough housing before the scene finally ended and we settled back to continue watching._

_By the time the casserole was done, I was starving. Niall dished up two large plates and then carried each of them to the couch, passing me one._

_“This smells so good, Ni,” I told him. Later in the movie, there is a scene where a character in getting a massage. Watching the masseuse's hands work over the character’s body made me groan._

_“You alright over there?” Niall laughed. I sighed._

_“I would kill for a massage. Zayn used to rub my shoulders all the time. He doesn’t do it anymore,” I told him. For reasons I didn’t understand, Zayn and I had been drifting apart. Almost like neither of us wanted to put effort in anymore._

_“Well come sit on the floor in front of me,” Niall instructed. I waited a moment to see if he was kidding. But Niall just shoved another forkful into his mouth before setting his plate down on the table. He scooted towards the edge of the couch cushion and spread his legs, giving me space to sit._

_“You don’t have to,” I said, giving him an out. Niall just chewed his food and shook his head. He motioned for me to sit. So I did. I settled down between Niall’s knees and crossed my ankles, trying to get comfortable. All of a sudden, my heart was racing. Niall’s hands came down on my shoulders and started squeezing. I couldn’t control the sigh that slipped out of my lungs._

_“Jesus, Li. You’re so tight” Niall said, using his thumbs to work into the tense muscles._

_“Ha. That’s what he said,” the words left my mouth before I could stop them. Oh fuck, Liam. Shut up!_

_“TMI, man,” Niall laughed. I felt the heat rush to my face._

_“I’m sorry,” I mumbled. I tried to pull away from Niall’s hands._

_“Hey what’s wrong?” Niall asked, not letting going of my shoulders. I shook my head, trying to get rid of the embarrassment._

_“That was so uncalled for. I’m sorry, “ I apologized again. Niall just laughed._

_“Li, I was just kidding. I mean, yeah maybe more than I wanted to know. But I was just kidding,” Niall said. He squeezed my shoulders in a reassuring way. Then we sat there, watching the movie while Niall massaged my shoulders. He wasn’t bad at it either. In fact, he was quite good. He worked through the major muscles around my shoulders, collarbone, and down my spine._

_“I think you missed your calling as a masseuse,” I joked. Niall continued on down my spine, making me shiver._

_“Can I ask you something?” Niall asked, his voice quieter. I nodded and waited. But Niall didn’t say anything._

_“What’s up?” I asked. Niall’s long fingers curled forward over my collarbone, rubbing into my chest._

_“Uhm. D-do you...uhm. What’s it...fuck. N-never m-mind,” Niall stuttered. Niall rarely stuttered. It usually only happened when he was nervous. I tipped my head back, resting on Niall’s knee, so I could look up at my friend._

_“Why are you anxious?” I asked. Niall didn’t say anything. He just looked at me. So I asked him again._

_“What’s it like?” Niall asked. I cocked my head to the side a bit. Niall’s hands had stilled on my body but he still held on._

_“What’s what like?” I asked. A deep blush brushed across Niall’s cheeks._

_“Sex,” he finally answered. It felt like the breath had been knocked out of me._ There’s no way Niall is a virgin. There’s no way.

_“Uhm. Sex?” I asked. Niall nodded. Words couldn’t express how awkward this had become._

_“I want to know what it’s like. With...you and Zayn,” Niall finally whispered. I’m fairly certain the world stopped turning right then._

_“Sex...with me...and Zayn? You mean gay sex? What is gay sex like?” I asked. Again, Niall just nodded. “Uhm. Well. It’s...definitely different. Different than sex with girls, I mean. It’s uh...it’s tricky. And it can be scary. Scarier than sex with a girl. And there’s a lot that goes into it. It’s more complicated than sex with a girl.”_

_“Which is better?” Niall asked. I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up out of my throat._

_“I’m sorry, Ni. I’m not laughing at you. I just can’t believe we’re having this conversation right now,” I apologized. Niall finally took his hands off my body and let them fall to his sides. I would be lying if I said the loss of contact didn't phase me._

_“Sorry. I’m just curious,” Niall whispered. I moved back to my place on the couch. From this better vantage point, I could see that Niall was almost in tears._

_“Whoa. Niall, what’s wrong?” I asked. Niall used the backs of his hands to wipe at the unshed tears._

_“Nothing. It was a stupid question. Do you fancy a beer?” Niall asked, pushing himself off the couch. I reached up and grabbed his wrist._

_“Hey. I’m not judging here. What’s wrong? Tell me,” I pushed gently. Niall shook his head and practically ran to the kitchen._ Ain't no way you're walkin’ out of this conversation. _So I got up and followed him. Niall opened the fridge and rummaged around for a beer. “Listen, mate, I want to have this conversation.”_

_“I don’t,” Niall said flatly. I watched as my friend finally found a beer and then started digging through all my drawers looking for a bottle opener._

_“Here,” I said, taking the beer out of his hands to open it with the magnet opener on my fridge. My fingers brushed against his as I took the bottle and then Niall’s lips brushed against mine. It felt like time stood still momentarily. But just as quickly as it started, it ended. Niall shrunk back into himself and just stared at me. I felt stuck - rooted to the spot. I looked down at my hand which had somehow found its way to Niall’s hip. I don’t know how it got there...but I didn’t move it away._

_“Liam, I’m so-” Niall started but I cut him off. I set the beer down and then backed Niall up until he was pressed between my body and the fridge. My hands gripped his hips, holding him tight. And then I kissed him. This is the part where a piece of me should have been fighting. I should have had the sense not to kiss a guy that wasn’t Zayn. I should never have put myself in this position. Yet there I was, softly grinding my hips into one of my best friends as I listened to the small grunts and moans that came from him. I couldn’t help but smile as I felt Niall relax into my body. His hands snaked up my chest to curl around my neck, pulling me even closer._

_I broke the kiss just long enough for my lips to descend upon his neck. His skin tasted so sweet. My tongue flicked back and forth, making Niall shiver. I felt like I had some pretty good self control. Until he moaned my name._

_“Fuck, baby,” I groaned. I was a little shocked at the words that came out of my mouth. But there was just something about hearing Niall moan my name that drove me wild. I brought my mouth back to his and crushed our lips together. Niall’s hands cupped the back of my neck and pulled me down to him. I couldn’t get close enough._

_“Take me upstairs,” Niall instructed. I’m embarrassed to admit it but I almost finished right there._  


 

    “He asked you to take him upstairs?! Oh my god!” Louis shouts, shaking me from my thoughts. My mouth had gone completely dry just thinking about the events from last night. I tried to be discreet about grabbing a blanket and slinging it across my lap. But Louis caught me. “Too late, Li. You’re hard as a rock. Alright on with it.”

    “On with what?” I ask. Louis lets out an exasperated sigh.

    “Details. You can’t leave me hanging right there,” Louis complains. I shake my head. _Here I am, sitting in my best friend’s living room, recounting the events of how I slept with our friend...and he’s asking me for details. What?_

    “Lou, I’m not giving you details,” I tell him. Louis pouts at me. I think he’s about to protest more when I see Harry lumbering down the stairs.

    “Hun, we have company,” Louis calls as he turns around. Harry stops in his tracks and looks into the living room. He instantly relaxes when he sees me and waves a hello.

    “It’s just, Lima Bean. He’s seen me in my underwear. In fact, I think he’s seen me in less,” Harry jokes. He goes into the kitchen and starts making himself a cup of tea.

    “I’m going to go help Harry make breakfast. Do you want to just relax in here?” Louis asks. I silently nod my head, thankful that my friend isn’t going to push me. Louis gets up and places a kiss on the top of my head. “We’re not done talking about this by the way.”

    “I didn’t think we were,” I try to laugh. Louis accepts my attempt and goes to join his boyfriend in the kitchen. I watch as they kiss and then fall into what must be a morning ritual. They both move around their kitchen effortlessly. They work together to assemble what looks to be pancakes. Louis gathers each of the ingredients and sets them out on the counter for Harry. Once upon a time, Zayn and I could do that. I’m not sure when things started to change. It seems silly to me that things went sour so quickly. I waited for Zayn for years. And he waited for me too. And then we finally got together and it’s like neither of us cares enough to try anymore.

    I wipe away a few renegade tears that have leaked out my eyes. I lean against the back of the couch, watching my friends cook, and remembering more of the previous night’s escapades.

  


  _“Fuck. I like when you bite my neck,” I moaned. Niall hummed and nipped at my skin again. I’d taken Niall upstairs as he’d instructed. We’d gone into my room and the mood had changed. Instead of being hesitant and shy, it’s like the change in scenery just added fuel to the fire. I was currently sandwiched between Niall and the wall. It was different for someone to be pressed against my back. But I liked it. As soon as we’d set foot in the room, Niall had grabbed me by the hips and pushed me into the wall beside my door. Then, from behind me, he started biting my neck._

_“What else do you like?” Niall asked. His voice was deep and husky. I’d never heard sound like this._

_“I like having my hair pulled,” I told him. One of Niall’s hands immediately skated up my spine to the back of my head. His fingers rubbed at my scalp a bit before grabbed a fistful of my hair, tugging. “Harder.”_

_Niall complied and gave a sharp tug. He didn’t release right away. Instead, he used the hold as leverage and then bit down on the exposed flesh of my neck. The moan that escaped me was porn-worthy. No shame._

_“Liam,” Niall breathed. I could feel Niall’s erection pressed up against my ass. Never in my life had I wanted someone to take me. Never. Zayn had asked more times than I can count. I always said I couldn't relax enough for that. I never thought I'd like it. Never wanted it. Until now._

_“I want you,” I told him. Niall chuckled and nuzzled into my neck. His breath washed over my collarbone and made me shiver._

_“Then have me,” Niall whispered against my skin. I whimpered. Everything he said made me feel like I was about to combust._ What is this? Why am I feeling like this?

     _I wanted to push back against him - to grind my ass into him._ Is that too far? What if he's not looking for sex? He told you to take him upstairs, Payno. Of course he wants sex.

     _“I want -” I started, afraid to finish. Niall turned me around in his grasp so we were chest to chest._

_“What do you want, baby?” Niall asked. Niall’s words swirled around my head and stayed there._ What do I want? Ha! _“I can see you thinking, Liam. Stop thinking. Just do it."_

_So I did. I wrapped my arms around Niall’s neck and arched my body into him. I pushed my hips forward to meet his so he knew exactly how turned on I was. I watched as Niall bit his lip and and looked down at your bodies._

    _“I want you,” I told him simply. Niall looked back up to meet my eyes._ But how? How do you want him?

     _“Get on your knees,” Niall commanded. I couldn't believe what was happening. Niall was completely different than the shy boy he'd been downstairs. Completely different from the quiet, respectful friend I’d grown to know in the last couple years. This Niall was different. And I liked it._

_I did as I was told and dropped to my knees in front of him. Niall looked down at me through heavy lidded eyes._

_“This is a good view of you,” I told him. Inside my head, I was kicking myself._ Shut up, Liam!

_Where I got the guts, I don't know. But I watched as if my body was autopilot - my hands crept up the front of Niall’s legs towards his belt. I made quick work of undoing his belt and pulling open the button of his jeans. I looked up to his eyes one more time._

_“Are you sure?” Niall asked. I grabbed a hold of his jeans and tugged them all the way down to his ankles. To say I was pleasantly surprised is an understatement._ He's fucking huge. What?!

     _Pushing the amazement out of my mind, I took Niall’s cock in my hand, stroking it slowly._

_“Answer enough for you?” I teased. Niall swore under his breath and pushed his hips towards me. My self control and patience seemed to evaporate all at once. I traced the head of his erection with my tongue and listened to Niall swear yet again. Taking a deep breath, I let my lips travel farther and farther down his cock. When I got down as far as I could, I followed the same path back up. I could taste the salty pre-cum leaking and it made my head swim._ He tastes so much better than Zayn.

     _Niall watched as I continued to pleasure him, alternating between using my mouth and my hand._

_“Want more,” Niall rasped._ Ha! Like I need to be told twice. _I got back to my feet and pushed Niall up against the wall. I grabbed his hands and pinned them above his head._

_“What do you want? Tell me,” I practically begged him. I dropped my mouth to Niall’s neck._ Mark him. Wait. Can't leave marks. Zayn…

_“I want you. Any way you'll have me. I just want you,” Niall said. His voice sounded strained - like he was losing control. I was going to respond when Niall surprised me by pushing me away, turning us, and pinning me against the wall._ Since when did he acquire muscle?

_Niall kissed down my neck in a completely alien way. People have kissed my neck. It's not new. But this sensation...whatever Niall was doing, I liked it. A lot. Niall released my hands and I immediately wrapped my arms around his neck. Niall bit down on my neck, causing me to whimper._ What was that? I never make sounds like that. _Niall’s hands travelled down my body to my ass. He squeezed my flesh once and then used the grip to pull me up into his arms._ What the fuck? How is he this strong?

_Niall’s mouth left my skin and I whined at him. Abandoning all concern over the sounds I made or my reactions, I pulled myself closer to Niall and begged him to kiss me again. Niall smiled and complied. The kiss was different this time. It was full of fire that I wasn't expecting. In that moment, I just wanted to be closer. Even though Niall had me sandwiched between his body and the wall, it wasn't enough._

_“Fuck me,” I said. Niall had moved back to sucking my neck but he stilled at my words. Slowly, he pulled back to look at me._

_“What?” Niall asked. I gulped. I actually gulped. Suddenly, I was terrified. But despite that, I never wanted anything more than how much I wanted Niall._

_“Fuck me. Please.”_

 

**Chapter 16: Stockholm Syndrome**

What are you doing?! You don't bottom! I will for Niall. _The warring thoughts in my head went back and forth, fighting for dominance._

_“I don't know what I'm doing. What if I'm bad at it?” Niall asked, worry pulling his eyebrows together. I wiggled a bit so Niall would put me down. When he did, I kept my arms around his neck._

_“You won't be bad at it, baby,” I reassured him. Niall eyes still told me he was unsure._

_“What if I hurt you?” he asked. This made me pause._ What if he hurts you? You've never bottomed.

     _“You won't hurt me. I promise. Just go easy on me,” I smiled at him. I grabbed Niall’s hand and pulled him with me towards my bed._

 

    “Earth to Liam!”

    Harry's face voice pulls me out of my thoughts and find two of my best friend staring at me intently. _Fuck...what did I say?_

    “You alright?” Louis asks. I shake my head and get up from the couch.

     "Yeah I'm fine. What did you guys make for breakfast?” I ask, trying to change the subject. I walk into their kitchen and start assembling a plate of pancakes and bacon. _God...I really fell into thought if they had time to make all this._

    “So did you catch the game last night?” Harry asks. I pick up a piece of bacon and force myself to eat it. Thankfully, my stomach seems to be cooperating.

    “No, I went to bed early,” I lie. I don't like lying to him. I risk a glance at Louis and find him staring at me with a goofy grin.

    “Didn't watch it in bed?” Harry continues, completely oblivious. Louis is fighting to keep his laughter to himself.

    “Uhm...no. I couldn't really see the telly,” I say slowly, staring directly at Lou. Then, Louis cocks his head to the side like he's trying to understand my words.

    “Mate, your telly is right in front of your bed,” Harry chuckles. I take a deep breath - larger than necessary.

    “Yeah well I tried out a new position. I was on my stomach for most of the night,” I say. All at once, Louis drops his mug, sending it's contents all over the floor along with shattering the mug, and spits his tea everywhere. Lou’s eyes look like they're about to burst from his head.

    “What did I miss?” Harry asks, looking between me and Louis. Feeling quite bold, I decide now is a good a time as any to tell Harry as well.

    “I bottomed for Niall last night,” I tell him. Harry's mouth hangs open but he doesn't say anything.

    “You...bottomed? Is that your...uhm...normal position?” Louis asks. I shake my head and take a bite of my pancakes.

    “Yes, I bottomed. And no, that's not my usual. I've never bottomed before last night,” I explain. Harry and Louis look at each other for a moment before looking back to me. Then they speak at the same time.

    “Well how was it?”  


 

     _“Fuck! I can't take much more of this. I'm ready, I promise!” I moaned, pushing myself back onto Niall’s fingers. Niall had taken his time in opening me up. Which I appreciated. But I was ready. More than ready._

_“Relax, baby. I'm getting there,” Niall whispered, kissing my back. It seemed to have taken forever to get to this point. After the initial shock wore off from me begging Niall to fuck me, I'd disappeared into the bathroom for quite a while. I was afraid that in the time it would take for me to get ready, Niall would change his mind. But he didn't. By the time I decided I was clean enough and finally went back to my room, Niall was pacing back and forth, still rock hard._

_Now, as Niall was kneeling behind me, knuckles deep, I was done waiting._

_“Please. I need you inside me,” I whined. Niall kissed the small of my back again and then I felt him straighten up. There was a moment of nothing, and then I felt his tip pressing against my entrance._

_“Relax, Li,” Niall cooed at me. I released the breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. Niall grabbed another pillow and stuffed it under my hips, careful when moving my painfully hard cock. Then, Niall gently pushed me down onto the pillows so I wasn't holding myself up. It was less stressful._

_“Thanks,” I said. I felt him at my entrance again and he slowly began pushing in. It hurt - but nearly as much as I'd expected. Based on how long it had taken Zayn to adapt the first time, I was surprised at the level of pain. Or, rather, lack thereof. Niall was careful as he slowly sank into me. When he was completely inside me, he paused. I can't really describe the feeling...other than “full”._

_“How ya doin’, baby?” Niall asked. I wiggled my butt a little, testing out the feeling._ Oh.

_“Good. Uhm...you can move now,” I told him. Niall hesitated. He was waiting too long. Slowly, I leaned away from him a little bit and then pushed back onto him. A loud moan escaped my lips and I had to close my eyes._

_“Oh god,” Niall said. His hands gripped my hips and he started to pump in and out of me. Every stroke felt better than the last._

_“Fuck! Ugh...faster,” I commanded. Niall did just that, pushing into me harder and faster. Not long after, Niall's thrusts lost their rhythm and he was panting._

_“I’m not gonna last much longer, baby,” Niall said. I signed._

_“Good. I need to cum,” I told him. I pulled out the pillows from underneath me so I could reach my dick. Supporting myself on one elbow, I tried to pump my cock to match his thrusts. Moments later I was close. I moaned loudly and begged Niall not to stop._

_“Where am I cumming,” Niall asked, starting to pull out._ No! I'll lose it. It won't be the same if he pulls out.

_“Cum inside me. Please, baby. I'm so close,” I moaned. Then, Niall let go. His hands gripped my hips in a bruising vice grip and he pounded into my ass. I found release, my muscles contracting around Niall’s cock. I swore as I came all over my hand and the sheets. A moment or two behind me, Niall hissed and sank all the way into me. He stilled, pulled back slightly, and pushed all the way back in, moaning my name and kissing my back._

_“Are you okay?” he asked, breathless. Niall carefully pulled out of me and rolled to the side before settling on his back. I started to move away but he stopped me. “Where are you going?”_

_“I was...well...we're done,” I said. Niall cocked his head to the side, his eyes searching mine._

_“Can I hold you?” Niall finally asked. My heart launched into double time and I couldn't help the smile that exploded across my face._ No one's ever held me. Zayn doesn't hold me… Zayn doesn't even let me hold him anymore...

_Yet again, I pushed the thought of Zayn out of my head. I scrambled back into place next to Niall. I folded myself against his body, my back pressed to his chest. Niall’s strong arms encircled my body, creating this safe,warm space for me. I sighed. I never wanted to leave._

  


    “What...the...fuck. Li...what?” Harry starts, unable to complete a thought.

    “I don't even know, Haz. I have no clue,” I say. I sit back in my chair at the table, astonished, (and slightly horrified), that I just gave my friends in depth details of my night with Niall.

    “Do you regret it?” Louis asks quietly.

    “Absolutely not,” I answer without even hesitating or thinking about it. _You should think about it. You just said you don't regret cheating on your boyfriend._

    “Sooo...what about...Zayn?” Harry asks. And there it is. The elephant in the room.

    “I have to tell him,” I say flatly. I'm instantly furious with myself. I should be heart broken. I should hate myself for ruining my relationship. I should be angry at Niall for coming on to me. I should be mad that I didn't have more self control. But I'm not any of those things.

    “Where is Niall?” Louis asks. A smile sweeps across my face at the thought of Niall wrapped up on blankets on my bed.

    “He was still asleep when I left,” I tell them. Now Harry looks like he's about to fall over.

    “He slept over?” Harry clarifies. I nod quietly. Harry swallows and let's out a whistle.

    “Am I supposed to break up with Zayn or do I let him dump me?” I ask. There's just no good way to word that.

    “Why would you break up with him?!” Louis shouts. _Fuck._

    “Because I cheated on him. I haven't been into this relationship in a while. Neither of us is trying anymore. I'm not justifying what I did - believe me. It was wrong. No...how I went about it was wrong. So I need to end it before it gets any more fucked up,” I tell them. Harry starts to speak but Louis cuts him off.

    “Do you love Zayn?” Harry asks. Without missing a beat, I shake my head sadly. Then Louis steps in.

    “Do you love Niall?” he asks. This time, I hesitate. I truly have no idea.

    “I honestly don't know. Yesterday, I was miserable in a broken relationship with a guy who doesn't hold me. Who doesn't make efforts to make me comfortable. We fuck. We write songs. In the beginning, we went on dates. We cuddled and held hands in his flat. We had sleepovers and stayed up watching movies until the sun came up. He hasn't spent a whole night with me in over a month. I don't know where we went wrong. But we're wrong. Niall...I don't know. I just...he feels different. Everything about it feels different. Yesterday, I was miserable. And now...now I want to crawl back in bed with Niall and never get out. He's...comfortable on a way that I don't understand. He's _safe_. And I don't know what to do with that,” I tell them. Harry's expression softens.

    “Did you ever tell Zayn you loved him?” Louis asks. My stomach drops.

    “No. I didn't. He never said it either. We never got there,” I admit. Louis sighs.

    “You need to break up with Zayn. Or let him dump you. I don't think it matters,” Harry says. He resumes eating his food.

    “Mmm. No,” Louis starts, his mouth full of pancakes. “Do you want to give being with Niall a go?”

    “Yeah, I'd like to,” I say. Louis nods and swallows his food.

    “Okay. Then you need to break up with Zayn. It's gonna suck but just trust me,” Lou says. I want to ask why but I don't. I'm just going to trust in my friend.  


**Louis’ P.O.V.**

    “Did not see that one coming,” Harry breathes. As soon as Liam left, Harry had pulled me into a hug.

    “You're telling me,” I sigh. I bury my face into Harry's chest. His sweet scent fills my lungs and I feel more relaxed.

    “What do you think is going to happen?” Harry asks. I shrug my shoulders.

    “I honestly don't know. But did you see the change in Liam’s body language when he switched from talking about Zayn to talking about Niall? Li’s gone. So gone,” I chuckle. It's not funny. The situation isn't funny. But seeing Liam obviously worked up about Niall is cute. He never looked like that with Zayn.

    “Today is going to suck, isn't it?” Harry asks. I can't help but sigh again. Today is going to be awful. We're scheduled to be at the studio for most of the day to fire through recording. Spending a whole day in a tiny studio with Liam, Zayn, and Niall is going to be murder. If they even all show up.

    “Yes it is.”

    “Oh! Holy fuck. Can we talk about how Niall is gay?! Or at least bisexual! What is that?!” Harry shouts. We didn't even touch that subject with Liam.

    “Guess we don't know everything about our little leprechaun.”

  


    It's not until five days later that shit hits the fan. Liam had broken up with Zayn right away. Apparently, it was a rough scene. Not helped by the fact that Liam’s neck was covered in love bites. There was no getting around what Liam had done. But what we learned later was that Liam hadn't told Zayn _who_ he'd slept with. Since Zayn didn't know it was Niall, we'd all tiptoed our way through the last five days. No one talked about it. No one really talked at all when we were at the studio. And then, everything went up in flames.

    “Alright, lads. Going to run through a new track. It's a good one,” Mike announces. We find our way to our places in silence. We all slide our headphones on and wait for the instrumental.

    “Liam, are we keeping this large intro? I know you'd said you were on the fence about it,” Mike asks. Liam's head snaps up to glare through the window separating us from the sound booth.

    “We can cut it,” Harry says, stepping in. Mike looks at Harry, confused.

    “It's Harry's song,” Liam spits. Now everyone is staring at Liam. It's rare for him to be annoyed, let alone look and sound angry.

    “Oh. Thought it was yours, Liam. Sorry. Okay. Cutting back the intro. Let's go,” Mike says before starting the track.

    We begin running it. Throughout the progression of the song, Zayn appears more and more irritated. It's not until Liam’s solo that things go horribly wrong.

 

_All my life I’ve been on my own_   
_I use a light to guide me home_   
_But now together we're alone_ _  
And there's no other place I'd ever wanna go_

 

    If Liam had just sung the lyrics, it might not have been as bad. But as the words fell from his mouth, Liam looked up and caught Niall's gaze. And he stayed there. He sang the verse, staring directly at Niall and practically serenading him. A sweet, shy blush spread across Niall's face. And Zayn saw it.

    “You have got to be fucking kidding me!” Zayn shouts. Everyone freezes and Mike looks like someone has just slapped him. He cuts the track and moves to press the comm button to talk to us but I wave my hand in front of my neck, communicating to stay quiet.

    “Zayn, maybe we can -” Harry starts. But Zayn cuts him off.

    “You're kidding, right? You left me for him?!” Zayn shouts. Niall looks terrified and Liam looks like he's about to cry. And there it is. The information has been said. I look to the sound booth where Mike still looks shocked, a couple sound guys are talking and pointing to us, and Max begins pushing everyone out of the booth. Everyone including Mike. Then he opens the door.

    “You're done for the day. The recording equipment is off. If you need to argue, or talk, or anything, do it here. Please don't do it outside. There are fans with cameras,” Max says. Then he leaves us.

    “Tell me this is a sick joke. Tell me my boyfriend didn't cheat on me with our friend. Our _best_ friend. Tell me you're joking,” Zayn begs. I've never seen Zayn this angry.

    “I'm sorry,” Liam whispers. He shoves his hands in his pockets. Zayn glares at him and then turns on Niall.

    “Enjoy my sloppy seconds. Don't expect much from him. He sucks at aftercare and isn't very adventurous. He's too big of a pussy,” Zayn spits. The venom dripping  from his voice is painful. The statement must have hit Niall just the right way. Or maybe the wrong way.

    “Shut the fuck up. Don't talk about him like that,” Niall shouts. I cringe at the volume of Niall’s voice. He doesn't usually yell. Zayn, however, laughs and looks back to Liam.

    “You're gonna let your little bitch girlfriend fight your battles? That's cute,” Zayn says. Before any of us can properly react, Niall's fist collides with Zayn's face. Zayn is sent tumbling onto the floor. Niall steps towards Liam and pulls the crying boy into his arms. I can count the number of times I've seen Liam cry on one hand. I watch as Niall kisses Liam’s forehead before turning back to Zayn.

    “Don't you dare talk to him like that again. Ever. We made a mistake. And we're sorry. But that doesn't give you the right to act like a child,” Niall seeths. Zayn is still sprawled out on the floor, blood pouring from his nose. Niall picks up his bag and helps Liam into his jacket. “Not that it's any of your business, but it's not sloppy seconds if I get things you never had. It's funny what someone will do when they can _relax_ enough.”

     I don't understand Niall’s words or why he stresses the word “relax”. But Zayn obviously knows what it means because his shoulder slump and he immediately breaks down in tears. Niall grabs Liam's hand and leads him out of the studio. Harry and I look at each other, completely at a loss. _The fuck do we do now?_


	17. Moments

**Chapter 17: Moments**

 

    Time seems to past alarmingly quickly. We wrapped up recording, did a few promos, and now, all of a sudden, we're packing to go on tour. Well...I’m packing. Harry is stalling.

    “What do you think about this one?” Harry asks, stepping in front of me. I wrinkle my nose and laugh. My boyfriend is standing there, wearing a pair of bleach stained Adidas joggers, a flamingo shirt, and mis-matching boots.

    “You look ridiculous. You have a better chance of the paps eating you alive than Taylor dumping you. She's not going to go out quietly, Haz. You know that. Trying to be ridiculous isn't going to aid that any,” I tell him. Harry's shoulders slump.

    “This is fucking stupid,” he sighs. He peels all the clothing off piece by piece until he's just in his underwear - which I can see is actually mine. Harry crawls into bed and hides under the covers. “Can you just...shut the door? Turn the light off?”

    “And be with you? So you can feel my love?” I ask, signaling my recognition of the lyrics. Harry giggles. Then, without warning, he reaches, captures me in his arms like a sea monster, and drags me under the duvet with him.

    “As much as I'd love a snuggle right now, you were supposed to leave fifteen minutes ago,” I point out. Harry pulls me tighter against his chest and nuzzles his face into my neck.

    “Five more minutes,” he whines. I chuckle and push back into his chest a bit. Harry's warmth envelops me in the perfect security blanket. I tell myself we'll just sit here for a minute or two and then I'll get him up and shove him out the door so I can finish packing. But the longer we lay here, in our little cocoon, the more my self control dwindles.  _ Just five more minutes isn't going to make a difference. _

  
  


    When I wake up, I feel my stomach drop.  _ Shit… _

    There is no light filtering in through the windows. It looks to be the middle of the night. Carefully, I slip out of Harry's embrace, but not without the curly haired boy groaning in his sleep. I watch as he grabs my pillow and clutches it to his chest. He turns his face into the softness and inhales deeply, a smile spreading across his face.  _ Isn’t this a picture? _

    I wander around our house, looking for my phone. I know it's here somewhere but can't recall for the life of me where I've left it.  _ This would be a great time for a landline. _

    When I get down to the living room, I see that the light next to Harry's chair is on - and Zayn is asleep under a pile of blankets.  _ Fuuuuuck. _

    I tiptoe around the living room and then into the kitchen looking for my phone. Just as I'm about to give up and get back into bed, I hear buzzing. Turning around, I find Harry's phone on the counter. I pick it up. A new message alert from Niall lights up the screen. But that's not the notification that makes me catch my breath. 

**13 missed calls from: Calypso**

_ Really, Haz? Calypso? Yikes. _

    “Lou?” I hear Zayn’s sleepy voice waft through the air. I look back and find him sitting up straighter now, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

    “Hey, mate. You alright?” I ask. Zayn opens his mouth to talk but then grabs a waste basket next to the chair and promptly throws up.  _ Wonderful. _ I walk over to my friend and gently rub his back until he's done. Zayn uses the back of his hand to wipe his mouth and then glances into the bucket. Despite my best efforts to ignore it, I catch sight of the contents. I can hazard a guess from my own experiences that his stomach only contained one thing: alcohol.

    “Alright buddy. Go take a shower, yeah?” I suggest. Zayn silently nods and gets up. He's relatively steady on his feet and I watch as he even remembers to take the bucket with him. I sigh.  _ How is it that my living room is always the place to be when shit hits the fan? _   
  


 

**Zayn’s P.O.V.**

    Standing under the warm shower spray should feel great. But it doesn't. In fact, the emotional pain of standing here alone almost manifests physically. That coupled with the aching and pounding headache after drinking FAR too much alcohol, I feel like I'm falling apart.

    I make quick work of washing my hair and body. Then I get out and speed through drying off. I don't want to be alone any longer than absolutely necessary. I go to grab my clothes and find that at some point during my shower, Louis must have grabbed them. In the space where I'd left them, I find a stack of clean clothes and a brand new, still in the package, toothbrush.  _ Someday, I have to repay this man. _

    I quickly throw on the clothes and find they're extremely comfortable. Glancing down, I realize they're Harry's. I brush my teeth and then slowly walk back to the living room. I sit on the couch and twist my body around so I can see into the kitchen.

    “Hey,” Louis says quietly. He's standing by the stove, staring at a kettle. I know there's a joke in here somewhere about a watched kettle never boils. But I think it's actually a watched  _ pot _ . Regardless, there's probably a joke in here but I don't make any attempt.

    “Hi,” I say. I cringe at my own voice. Yes, it's small. But it's also raw and obviously forced. It sounds...broken.

    “Tea should only be another minute or two,” he tells me. I nod, not knowing what to say. Louis continues, “Have you packed yet?”

    “Yes. I've been packed for a few days, if I'm honest,” I tell him. This makes Louis pick his head up and look at me.

    “Really? Why? You always wait until the last moment to pack,” Lou chuckles. I shrink into the couch a little bit.

    “I don't want to be in my flat anymore. It hurts too much,” I tell him, the tears in my eyes spilling freely now.

    “Awww Zaynie,” Louis says, coming to join me on the couch. He pulls me into his arms and I let him. I completely lose it.

    “I don’t know wha’ happened, Lou. One minute, everythin’ is fine and the next, it’s all gone. All of it,” I cry into his chest. This is new. It’s different. I’m always the one doing the comforting. I’m supposed to be the tough guy. But right now, sitting on Louis and Harry’s couch, I’m an utter mess.

    “I don’t even know what to say. I genuinely have no words,” Louis says. I don’t expect him to say anything, really. How is a person supposed to react anyways?

    “I don’t know if I can go on this tour. Be with him every day. See... _ them _ ...every day. I can’t do it, Lou,” I tell him. Louis doesn’t say anything. He just hugs me. There’s something inside me that’s telling me to shut up. To just suck it up and deal because it’s my job. It’s my job to deal with them. I have to. For the band…

 

**Harry’s P.O.V.**

    “Harry, this is getting ridiculous. There’s no reason for you to be making this so fucking difficult,” Taylor spits. I stand there in front of her, completely at a loss.

    “I’m sorry,” I whisper. Taylor glares at me through thick lashes. She really is beautiful. Just...well she’s not Louis.

    “You’re sorry? Oh yeah. That fixes everything, doesn’t it? Hey, everyone! Harry is sorry!” Taylor shouts. There are dozens of people around. All of whom are now staring.

    “Taylor, keep your voice down. Please?” I practically beg. But she just laughs. Her cherry red lips curl into a smirk.

    “You thought I would make this easy for you? I’m not going to just roll over and accept it like Louis,” she says. Her voice is still too loud. There are even more people staring now. When I don’t say anything, she continues. “You are worst mistake I ever made. God! Why do I keep making the same mistakes?!”

_ What? Same mistakes? _

    “Honestly, Taylor, can we take this somewhere else?” I ask. Taylor laughs at me again.

    “I’m not some secret.  _ This _ isn’t some secret you can keep hidden away. I know I might never be the kind of girl that you want to take home. Or even the kind of girl you’d stay up all night with. But honestly...am I that bad? Bad enough that you’d have an affair with your bandmate?” she asks.  _ What the fuck is going on? _

    “Harry, you’ve lost it. Just make this right,” Simon says.  _ When the fuck did Simon get here? _

    “Why are you making this so hard? You’re threatening the future of the band over a silly crush,” Niall says, glaring at me. He shakes his head and turns around.

    “You’re not even worth this,” Louis says. I watch as he walks away from me.

    “No! Lou. Louis! You can’t leave me! I”m sorry!” I shout at his back. But Lou doesn’t stop. He just keeps walking away.

 

**Lou’s P.O.V.**

    “No! Lou. Louis! You can’t leave me! I’m sorry!” Harry shouts. Zayn and I look at each other, confused. Then the shouting continues, “Baby, please. I’m sorry! Don’t leave me. I love you!”

    “Fuck. He’s dreaming again,” I say. I launch myself off the couch and take the stairs two at a time. I burst into our room just in time to see Harry roll over and vomit into the waste bin next to our bed.  _ It’s a good thing vomit doesn’t gross me out. And that we have waste bins all over the house. _

    “Lou,” Harry says, weakly. I rush to his side of the bed and gently rub his back while he finishes vomiting. When he’s through, I help him into the shower.  _ Honestly. How do I always get saddled with playing the mom? _

    “Relax, love,” I coo at him. Harry slumps against the shower wall and slowly slides down until he’s sitting. I sigh heavily. I clean up the waste bin, wash my hands, and then hand Harry his toothbrush. I’ve already put toothpaste on it so all he has to do is brush. I wait a moment until he starts and then I excuse myself to get him clothes.

    “You’re coming back, right?” Harry asks. I turn back to look at him. My heart nearly breaks in half. Here he is - the love of my life - sitting on the shower floor looking utterly broken. The spray from the shower has wet his curls enough that they droop into his eyes. Toothpaste is smeared across his lips. His eyes are red rimmed and wide with fear. I slowly walk back to the shower. Without saying a word, I take off my clothes and get into the shower with him. I watch as Harry visibly relaxes.

    Harry resumes brushing his teeth and even giggles a bit when he spits and the glob of toothpaste gets stuck on my leg. I playfully punch him in the arm and all seems to shift back into place.

    “For the record, I’m never leaving. Ever,” I tell him. I push Harry back so he’s leaning against the shower wall and then I fold myself into his arms. I rest my head on his chest.

    “Please...please don’t leave me,” Harry begs. I lift my head to look him in the eyes.

    “Hey, now. What did I just say? I’m never leaving. I mean it. I’m never leaving you. I love you,” I affirm. Harry nods. Tears build in his eyes and then spill freely down his cheeks.  _ This is the last straw. No more of this Haylor bullshit. _   
  


 

    Some time later, Harry states that he’s ready to get out of the shower. So we do. Carefully, we stand up on wobbly legs and grab towels to dry off. Getting dressed is another story. I turn around for maybe half a second to drag a brush through my hair and turn back to find Harry on the floor, under a pile of clothes. My clothes to be exact.

    “Are you making a nest?” I ask, jokingly. Harry sticks his head out from underneath one of my many Adidas hoodies.

    “Yes,” he says softly. My heart aches but I smile anyways. I pick up a few of the articles that are on top of him and giggle when he whines.

    “Love, wouldn’t it be a more comfortable nest if you were on the bed?” I ask. Harry’s face lights up.

    “I can keep the nest?” he asks excitedly. I can’t help but smile and tear up. You’d think I just let him open his Christmas presents early or something.

    “Of course you can keep the nest. Do you want me to help you move it?” I offer. But Harry shakes his head.

    “No, I’ll do it. You’re not good at making forts. I can’t imagine a nest would be any different,” he teases.

    “And just like that,” I say, snapping my fingers, “my Hazza is back.”

    “I love you, Lou,” Harry beams at me, dimples and all. I place a soft kiss in his curls.

    “I love you too. Always,” I tell him. 

    “Always,” Harry repeats. I tell Harry that Zayn is downstairs and that I should go check up on him. Then, I leave my impossibly cute boyfriend alone in our room to build his nest.

  
  


    “How’s Harry?” Zayn asks when I finally rejoin him in the living room. I flop down onto the couch.

    “He’s okay now. He’s building a nest,” I laugh. Zayn looks at me like I’ve got seven heads. “You think I’m joking. No kidding...he’s up there, building a nest on our bed out of my clothes. He’s lost it.”

    “He’s not actually okay...is he?” Zayn asks carefully. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. It feels like there is an incredible weight just taking up residence in my chest lately.

    “No. I’m afraid not,” I say quietly. I recount the incident for Zayn and sigh again. Zayn looks at me with sad eyes.

    “This is all really getting to us. I mean...all of us. We’re all such a mess,” Zayn says. Without thinking, I speak.

    “You know what? We need this. We need this tour. When we’re on tour, everything is decided for us. Where we go. What we do. Who we see. We can do it on autopilot by now. Maybe that’s what we all need. Just a little bit of...control. Or a lack thereof,” I suggest. Zayn and I hold each other’s gaze for a few moments. 

    “I think you’re right,” he finally says.

    Zayn settles back into the couch to try to get more sleep before the chaos that will be tomorrow morning. I drag my tired self back up the stairs. What I see when I enter our bedroom immediately makes my heart soar and I fall in love all over again. Harry has built quite the impressive nest. Also, at the end of the bed is a pile of clothes with a note on it.

**_Please wear these tomorrow_ **

    I chuckle and find that they’re Harry’s clothes. But for now, I strip down to just my boxers and then crawl into the nest with Harry. I wrap my arms around his body and nuzzles my face into the space between his shoulders. As if on cue, Harry pushes back into me and eliminates any gaps. I know that he likes the skin to skin contact. It reminds me of the first time we cuddled like this…

 

_     “Haz, you’ve got to calm down. It’s not like we’ve never done this before. We’ve been performing for awhile now!” I shouted. Harry was pacing back and forth in our tour bus, his hair a mess from pulling at it, and he’d nearly chewed his bottom lip off. He was a right mess. _

_     “Lou, you don’t get it. Our families are here. All of them. The people that we love are here and expect us to be flawless,” Harry shouted back at me. I shook my head at him and laughed. This only made him frown. _

_     “You’re mental. Yes, they love us. But never in a million years would they expect us to be flawless. C’mon...they’re our families. They of all people know what tossers we are, yeah? It’s just another show. It’s not even the biggest show we’ve ever done. You’re gonna be fine. We’re all going to do great,” I said, trying to calm him down. It didn’t seem to work. Harry just continued to pace back and forth like a lion. I watched as he repeatedly crossed the room and noticed that despite Harry’s lack of shirt, he was actually sweating. Not knowing what else to do, I pulled out my phone to text my mum. _

**_Me: Mum. Need your help._ **

**_Mum: What’s wrong? Are you alright?_ **

**_Me: Yeah. No, I’m fine. Need some help for a friend. They’re close to having a panic attack and I don’t know what to do._ **

**_Mum: Try to get him to sit down and drink some water. That always helped you before your school plays._ **

**_Me: Tried that already. And how do you know it’s a boy?_ **

**_Mum: Sweetie...you’re backstage, presumably in a dressing room with the other lads. There’s only so many people back there that could be nearing a panic attack._ **

**_Me: Fair enough. He won’t sit or drink anything._ **

**_Mum: Try making him sit down. Physically sit him down. Put pressure on his shoulders. When you were little, sometimes I had to do that with you. You’d get a little too excited over things._ **

**_Me: Okay I’ll give it a try._ **

**_Mum: Okay. Tell Harry he’ll be fine ;)_ **

_     My mum just used an emoji. What is happening. _

_     “Harold, why don’t you sit down?” I asked, gesturing towards a chair. Harry looked and then rolled his eyes at me. _

_     “How do you expect me to sit at a time like this?!” Harry shouted. I winced at his words but quickly regained composure.  _ If you want something done, got to do it yourself, Tommo. _ I crossed the room, grabbed Harry by the shoulders and guided him to a chair. Harry went willingly, much to my surprise. I plopped him down in the chair and then placed my forearms on his shoulders. Getting up on my tiptoes, I used my body weight to lean down onto him. _

_     “Breath, Harry,” I instructed. Harry made an attempt at slow, deep breaths. But within moments, he was sucking in shallow breaths again. _

_     “Lou, I think I’m dying,” he said. Then it was my turn to roll my eyes. _

_     “Quit being so dramatic,” I sighed. I leaned a little more onto his shoulders. Somewhere in the back of my head, I thought about pausing to put on a shirt. Before shows, the lads and I got passed around through wardrobe so many times that we typically just remained shirtless, or even in boxers, until everyone decided what to put us in. _

_     “That feels good,” Harry whispered. I pushed any thought of leaving out of my head, thankful that this was helping. I continued to press down but alternated my weight between his shoulders, pushing more on his left and then more on his right. I went back and forth and little by little, I felt the tension leave Harry’s body. _

_     “How d’you feel now?” I asked. Harry hummed and pulled his head to the side, cracking his neck. _

_     “Better. The skin contact is good. Whenever I got sick at home, my mum would rest her hands on my face or my neck or my back. It was so simple but still comforting, ya know?” Harry asked. I couldn’t help but smile. _

_     “I can do ya one better,” I laughed. I leaned all the way forward and wrapped my arms around Harry so that my chest was plastered to his back. Harry went rigid for a moment and then immediately relaxed with a sigh. _

_     “Oh this is much better.” _

 

    I had no idea, way back then, how our lives would change. And looking back on it now, I'm not surprised that my mum was so excited that Harry and I were a couple. It was a relationship literally in the making for years.

    I smile to myself, press a kiss to Harry's shoulder, and let sleep wash over me once again

  
  


    The next day is everything I expected: chaos. Zayn had up and left early. Most likely to get his stuff and make sure everything was buttoned up at his flat.

    “Do you think I should call her?” Harry asks from the kitchen. He’s sitting cross legged on the counter, holding a mug between his hands. I set down the bag I’d been carrying with a grunt and the go to stand next to him.

    “I reckon it doesn’t make much of a difference. I think it’s over. I think she knows it’s over. You missed every single call last night. Nice name by the way,” I say, referencing Taylor’s contact in his phone. Harry beams at me.

    “I thought you’d appreciate that one. Niall saw it the other day. He’s clearly not up to speed on his mythology,” Harry chuckles. He takes a big sip of his tea.

    “You know...I could call her for you. I would get immense pleasure out of breaking the news to her,” I offer. I expect Harry to shoot the idea down. But instead, his dimples get even deeper.

    “Would you? That would be great!” he shouts.  _ Oh look what you’ve gotten yourself into now. _ Unable to deny the curly haired cherub, I nod and grab his phone. I pull up her contact, gulp, and press “call”.

    “Well. If it isn’t my _ boyfriend _ ,” Taylor says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. I clench my eyes tightly.

    “Uhm. No, actually. It’s Louis,” I correct her. Taylor laughs - almost maniacally - on the other end. 

    “Oh this is rich. A break up call from my  _ boyfriend’s _ boyfriend? This will make for a good song,” Taylor spits. I pinch the bridge of my nose.

    “Taylor. Please. We don’t care what songs you write. We don’t care if you say shit about Harry being a womanizer. We don’t care how you choose to tell the tabloids, or anyone for that matter, how this came about. Portray him as an asshole. A heart breaker. Whatever. Just please do not bring me into it? For Harry’s sake. Please. We can handle him being portrayed as a jerk. But telling the truth will ruin our careers. For our entire band, really,” I beg her. Taylor is completely silent on the other end. When she finally speaks, her voice is soft.

    “It’s real?” she asks.  _ Huh? _

    “The rumours. The fandom. Larry Stylinson? It’s real?” she clarifies.  _ Well shit. No one told her the truth. _ I take a deep breath.

    “Yeah. It’s...it’s true,” I confirm. I wait for the inevitable - the confirmation that she’s going to tell every news source exactly what the members of One Direction have been up to. I can see the headlines now:  _ 1D’s Epic Bromance Heats Up! _ Or  _ Larry Stylinson: The Truth Behind the Rumours _

    “I am so sorry,” Taylor says. My jaw practically hits the floor.  _ What…? _ As if sensing my disbelief, she continues, “I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what else to say. Jesus...if I had known. Oh my God. Louis, I’m so sorry. I already told people that we broke up. That Harry broke my heart. Fuck. I’m so sorry.”

    “No, it’s okay. We should have told you. We wanted to. But management threatened us,” I explain. I hear Taylor suck in a breath.

    “Threatened you? How?” she asks. I sigh again. I don’t really want to get into this but as of now, Taylor could be an ally to us.

    “They threatened to drop us. The label threatened to drop us and management basically said if we lost the label, we were done for. We couldn’t let that happen to the band. So when the whole...Larry Stylinson thing started to get out of control, management started directing our every move. It’s a miracle they even still allow us to live together,” I say. It feels good to say all this out loud - to tell someone outside the band or our families.

    “This is unbelievable,” Taylor says, her voice sounding angry.

    “I'm sorry we didn't tell you, Taylor. You deserved to know,” I apologize again.

    “Stop apologizing. It’s not your fault. Believe me...I know what kind of assholes people can be in this industry. I just...I'm sorry that you've all had to deal with the bullshit. And I'm sorry for the fallout I'm sure will be happening. I'll do my best to not make it a big deal. But you know the media…,” she say, her sentence trailing off. She's not wrong. There will be the inevitable fallout. And it's likely not going to be pretty.

    “Well at least you'll get a good album out of it,” I say, trying to lighten the mood. Taylor chuckles.

    “That's true. And in true Taylor fashion, I'll be publicly thanking Harry when it wins awards,” Taylor says. I smile and shake my head.

    “Wouldn't have it any other way,” I tell her. I thank her again and then we say our goodbyes. I end the call and then look back at Harry. He's staring at me, mouth agape.

    “Did I hear all that correctly? She's not going to drag us through the mud?” Harry asks, clearly in disbelief. I smile and nod, grabbing his hand.

    “For the moment, she appears to be on our side. We'll let this play out, keeping an eye on everything of course, but let's just let this go for now,” I suggest. Harry nods and then pulls me into a hug.

     “I honestly don't know what I'd do without you, Lou,” he says. I smile because I know the feeling. It's nearly impossible now to imagine my life with Harry.


	18. I Want To Write You A Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! So...fair warning: if you happen to be an emotional person like I am, you might want to have some tissues on hand for this chapter. I cried while I wrote it. All good things, I promise. Cute fluff game is real in this chapter. So yeah. You've been warned. Enjoy and please leave comments and kudos!
> 
> Much love, Aria ♡

**Chapter 18: I Want To Write You A Song**

    The thing about traveling anywhere is that it can be really stressful. Now add being a member of One Direction and traveling becomes a near catastrophe every time. After hanging up with Taylor and excitedly calling each of our mums to tell them the good news, Harry and I had sped through getting ready and making our way to the airport. Unsurprisingly, there was a large gathering when we arrived at LAX. Paparazzi and fans clustered on the sidewalks near departures and airport security struggled to help us inside. Normally, Harry and I can manage to get in and out of LA with little fuss. But announcing the new world tour makes everything a hassle. Even stopping for Starbucks on the way to the airport had been an adventure.

    “Can you please carry my duffle bag?” I ask Harry as we're pulling up to the unloading area. Harry doesn't hesitate before reaching out and taking it from me. I mumble a “thank you” and then lean across the seat to kiss him. Our driver parks and waits a moment. This driver, Cole, is my favourite. He's younger than anyone else on the security team and he puts up with quite a bit from us.  In fact, driving us really isn't even in his job description. But I trust him to protect Harry. After the first time he volunteered to drive us somewhere and then successfully got us in and out of a restaurant completely unseen, Harry and I had made it a point to request him. Cole didn't seem to mind.

    “Alright, guys. We're here. And you're running late. Kiss and let's go,” Cole says as he holds his baseball cap over his mouth, effectively shielding his words from anyone who may have an affinity for reading lips.

    “Yes, sir,” Harry chuckles. He grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls me back for one last breath-taking kiss. Then we check ourselves - and each other - over one last time before stepping out into the chaos

    “Here we go,” I sigh. And then we go.

  
  


    “Harold! I swear to God if you don't stop with the kale, it's over. And don't you dare give me those puppy eyes. I'm serious, Styles. I will leave you over a fucking vegetable,” I threaten as I toss the greens onto the counter of our small hotel room kitchen. From somewhere inside our room, I can hear Harry giggling. I poke my head around the corner, expecting to see him on the bed, but he's not there. _Hmm. And just where could he be?_ I smile to myself as I set out to find the curly haired lad that I love so dearly.

    I check the other side of the bed, under the bed, in the bathroom, and behind all the doors. No Harry. I hum to myself before I finally think of it. I smack a hand to my forehead and sigh, “Please tell me you are not literally hiding in the closet.”

    Confirming my suspicion, I track the fit of laughter to the closet. I open the door and inside is a giggling, beaming Harry Styles.

    “Happy anniversary, Lou!” Harry squeals, throwing his arms around my neck. He places a rather wet kiss right on my cheek.

    “Aww Haz. I thought we weren't gonna do that whole month-iversary thing. It feels like we've been together forever...I've lost track of the months, if I'm honest,” I laugh,  hugging him to my chest. Harry pulls back and pouts at me.

    “No...YOU said you weren't going to do the whole month-iversary thing. Which, might add, is not a word,” he says, sticking a finger into my chest. I duck down and capture the finger between my teeth. This earns me a flick right to the nose.

    “Ouch. Behave yourself, Harold,” I caution him. Harry rolls his eyes at me.

    “Oh you've got me shakin’ in me boots,” he says in a pitch much higher than normal. Now it's my turn to roll my eyes. This is the voice that Harry adopts when he's trying to imitate me. Or make fun of me. Or annoy me. I'd like to say it works but truthfully, it's hard for me to be annoyed with him.

    “Your English is awful. The correct phrase would be ‘my boots’. Not ‘me boots’. You're supposed to be the one who's good with words,” I tease. Harry smiles at our banter. Just as I'm pulling his body tight against mine, Harry puts his hands firmly on my chest and pushes me back.

    “Speaking of being good with words, I wrote you a song,” Harry says, effectively bringing me back into focus.

    “That's sweet. But you write me lots of songs, baby,” I point out. I bring Harry close to my chest and reach up on my toes to kiss his forehead. I'm not sure when it happened but it seems that Harry has grown quite a bit. Suddenly, he's several inches taller than me. Not that I'm complaining. I do still enjoy being able to curl into him at night. It's just comical that the younger lad may be towering over me soon if he keeps up this growth rate.

    “Yes. But this one is special,” he says. I open my mouth to speak but he cuts me off, “and before you try to tell me that they're all special...yes, I know that. I wrote them. So obviously they're special. No. What I was going to say before you so rudely tried to interrupt me...is that I wrote you a song and it's really important to me that you hear it. But, there's a scavenger hunt that goes along with it.”

    I stare at him, my mouth falling open. Harry takes my silence as a good thing and quickly kisses my nose.

    “A scavenger hunt?” I ask. The little kid inside me is bouncing up and down. I love scavenger hunts.

    “Yep. Now to kick everything off, you need to get dressed. Can't go out and about looking like that,” Harry says. I think about making fun of him for his choice of clothing but I don't. Harry looks perfect in anything. That, and I'm honestly just so excited about this scavenger hunt that I let the comments go.

 

 

    I speed through a shower, getting dressed, and stuffing my hair under a beanie. All in all, the process takes maybe fifteen minutes. When I'm finished, I meet Harry by our door.

    “Ready?” I ask, checking my pockets for my wallet and phone. Harry shakes his head and opens the door so we can leave.

    “I tell you I want to go out for dinner and you take an hour to get ready. I tell you we have to leave for the airport and you stall for several hours. But I take you on a scavenger hunt and you're ready in no time. Unbelievable, Tomlinson. Are you sure you're the older one?” Harry giggles. I ruffle his curls affectionately as we get into the elevator. Once the doors are closed, Harry practically throws me against the wall.

    “What the-” I start, only to be cut off by Harry's lips descending on my own. For a brief moment, I allow myself to be consumed. It's a flurry of hands and lips and sighs. And then, just as quickly as it started, it's over. The elevator doors are sliding open and a pair of older women enter with us. We step aside, giving them room. My fingers brush across my lower lip. It feels swollen. _Can they tell? Do they know what we were doing? Do they even know who we are?_

The thoughts are pushed away as we exit the elevator and quickly dart out a side door. Unsurprisingly, Harry has a car waiting. Inside, we find Cole sipping a coffee.

    “Good morning,” he greets us. I'm elated to see Cole, though admittedly surprised.

    “Cole! Thought you weren't joining us for the whole tour!” I say excitedly. Cole reaches back and hands each of us a hot tea.

    “Yeah well. I was thinking about it...and what the hell was I supposed to do with my life while the pair of you are off gallivanting across the globe? Leave you to get into trouble without me around to save the day?” Cole chuckles.

    “Ah. So this is merely to ensure that you still have a job when we're done gallivanting. Can't be our security if we're in jail,” I suggest. Cole looks at me in the rear view mirror and lifts his coffee in salute. I raise my own tea. We both take long sips.

    “Yes. Okay the bromance is cute. Bond some other time. We have things to do,” Harry says, still beaming.

    “Easy, Curly. It's barely ten in the morning. We've got plenty of time,” I say, sliding my hand over his thigh. Harry shakes his head.

    “No no. Everything is on a schedule. Things to do, places to go. Cole?” Harry bristles, leaning forward. Cole make an affirmative grunt and waves Harry off as he pulls out of the side alley. I sigh in content and slip my hand into Harry's grasp.

    “You're cute when you're flustered,” I tell him, leaning over to kiss his cheek. Harry rolls his eyes at me but smiles anyways.

    “Yeah yeah,” he says. I look out the window and watch as downtown London whizzes by. The farther away we get from the heart of the city, the more I relax. It's been awhile since any of us have made an attempt at just walking around the city or surrounding areas. Even just running out to get a tea is quite a production.

    I'm about to ask where exactly Harry is taking me when Cole pulls down a small side street.

    “Alright. Phase one. Cole? If I may?” Harry asks. Cole nods and exits the vehicle.

    “Did you really just kick him out?” I ask, shaking my head at him. Harry rarely asks for privacy. In fact, he's very... _open_.

    “Yes. It'll ruin the moment. Not shut it,” Harry instructs. From the way back of the SUV, Harry produces his acoustic guitar.

    “Oh and you're going to serenade me? This just gets better and better,” I say, poking fun at him. Harry doesn't say anything this time. Instead, he pulls a pick out of his pocket and gently strums a chord, testing the tuning. “Wait you're actually going to serenade me?”

    Harry looks up at me through his curls, dimples in full effect. _Well excuse me while I melt._

    “Baby...please be quiet,” Harry pleads. I promptly shut my mouth and fold my hands in my lap. I watch as Harry takes a deep breath and then begins.

 

 _I want to write you a song_   
_One that's beautiful as you are sweet_   
_With just a hint of pain_   
_For the feeling that I get when you are gone_   
_I want to write you a song_   
  
_I want to lend you my coat_   
_One that's as soft as your cheek_   
_So when the world is cold_   
_You'll have a hiding place you can go_ _  
_ I want to lend you my coat

 

    I feel my eyes start to tear up. The song is beautiful. But hearing Harry play it just for me in the confines of the car is something else. Harry stops, lays the guitar on the seat next to him and shrugs out of his coat.

    “I know this one is your favourite. So it's yours. Here,” he says, gently helping me push my arms in. I wrap it around me and breath in. It smells just like the curly haired lad that I adore.

    “Who knew you were such a romantic,” I smile. I lean over and kiss him sweetly. Normally, I'd dive right in and take the kiss up a notch. But in this moment, in our own little bubble, I'm so content with just sitting here, enjoying the feeling of his lips against mine.

    “Oh just wait,” Harry says when we finally break apart. He opens his door, looks around quickly, and then holds out his hand to help me out. I don't really need help getting out. But the gesture is heartwarming.

    “Everything is all set inside, Harry,” Cole says. Harry thanks him and then guides me into a building via a side door. For once, I suppress all sarcastic comments about the cloak and dagger of it all. Instead, I just giggle as Harry drags me down a hallway. At the end, we find a room and I can't help but gasp.

    “Haz...what is this?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. I look around the room in astonishment. All over the walls are photo strips that we've taken throughout the last couple years. Photo booth pictures and stickers coupled with dozens and dozens of bar napkins. Pieces of manuscript paper, big blown up versions of our selfies, and printed out tweets are held up by clothes pins everywhere. It's like the last couple years of our lives have been splashed all over the place.

    “I wanted to write you a song. One that's beautiful as you are sweet. So I took all our sweet moments and pasted them all around. And when I was going through all the memories, I was astounded by how many there were. Some of the best moments of my life are pictured here. And they all contain you,” Harry says. Any attempts I'd made at containing the emotion behind my eyes is squashed. Tears are spilling freely down my face as I start walking around the room. There's pictures from the X Factor house. Selfies we took on stage. Napkins containing bits and pieces of lyrics that I recognize from our first album and even from the one we just finished. There are stickers of our faces. The printouts of our various tweets make me laugh.

    “Harry...this is incredible. Thank you for this. This is absolutely the most amazing thing anyone has ever done for me. I love it,” I tell him. My fingers graze over a blown up version of a selfie we took just the other day. It's a picture of us cuddled up at home, me sitting in Harry's lap and kissing his forehead.

    “You are incredible, Boobear. This is our life. Crazy, messy, hidden, obvious, amazing, and beautiful all at the same time,” he says softly. It's impossible for my heart to swell any more. I shake my head and close my eyes.

    “I love you so much,” I whisper. I walk back to him and fold myself into his arms. Harry rests his face against my forehead and hugs me tightly.

    “You want some food? I promise there's no kale,” Harry chuckles. It's then that I notice the small table in the corner. Various breakfast foods and tea all look great. I smile up at Harry and nod. Between all the things to look at, my favourite tea, and delicious pastries, I sigh again. _This couldn't get any better._

  


    But then it does. When we've finished eating and walking around reminiscing about all the great moments, Harry informs me there is more to see on our adventure.

    “You'll notice that some of the napkins on the walls have numbers. Go grab numbers seventeen and twenty-eight,” Harry instructs. I start going around looking for the correct numbers. Finally finding them, I bring them back to Harry.

    “Alright let's see what we have here. Seventeen says ‘I want to build you a boat. One that's strong as you are free. So any time you think that your heart is gonna sink. You know it won't. I want to build you a boat’. Oh I like that. Is that part of my song?” I ask. Harry shrugs.

    “Guess you'll find out. What does twenty-eight say?” Harry prompts.

    “And I've been waiting for this time to come around. But baby running after you is like chasing the clouds,” I read out loud. I look up at Harry, confused. “You want to build me a boat? And I'm a cloud?”

    Harry stands there, smiling. He's obviously waiting for me to put the pieces together. I start walking around the room again. _Maybe the answers are in here somewhere._ So I go back to the areas where I found the napkins. Next to the spot where I found napkin seventeen, there's a bunch of snapshots. There's one of us at the beach. One of the X Factor house. One of me attempting to cook. And then I settle on a picture of a toy store. It seems random because it's not a picture of us and it doesn't hold any significance. I take the picture down and examine it closely. _Ah ha._ The name of the toy store: Clouds.

    “Any ideas?” Harry asks. I nod and show him the photo of the toy store.

    “We have to go here?” I ask. Harry just shrugs his shoulders.

    “This is your scavenger hunt. Not mine. Give it a shot,” Harry says. I stick my tongue out at him and make my way back out to the car. We slide in and Cole looks back at me expectantly.

    “I don't suppose you're going to help me any?” I ask, eyeing him carefully. Cole shakes his head.

    “Not a chance. Where are we going?” Cole asks, a smile tugging at his mouth. I roll my eyes and shove the photo of the toy store at him. Cole makes a show of googling the toy store and then putting the address onto his GPS. And then we're off.

    “You know, I'd have been content to lay in bed all day until the show. You didn't have to do all this,” I whisper, cuddling into Harry's side. “But I do really love this. It's amazing.”

    “Anything for you,” Harry smiles, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

 

 

    Before I know it, we're pulling up in front of the toy store. It's a cute little store tucked in between two other businesses. I go to get out but Harry grabs his guitar again.

  
_I want to write you a song_   
_One that's beautiful as you are sweet_   
_With just a hint of pain_   
_For the feeling that I get when you are gone_   
_I want to write you a song_   
  
_I want to lend you my coat_   
_One that's as soft as your cheek_   
_So when the world is cold_   
_You'll have a hiding place you can go_   
_I want to lend you my coat_   
  
_Everything I need I get from you_   
_Givin' back is all I wanna do_   
  
_I want to build you a boat_   
_One that's strong as you are free_   
_So any time you think that your heart is gonna sink_   
_You know it won't_ _  
_ I want to build you a boat

 

    “So what now?” I ask. Harry points to the store.

    “Go figure it out,” Harry chuckles. I try to look annoyed but I know I'm failing.

    Inside, the little store is pretty cute. There's lots to look at but I'm trying to focus on the napkins. I read over them again. _Okay. This is Clouds. So that napkin is probably done. Boat. Wants to build me a boat. Oh! A model boat?_ I look around for a few minutes before I find the model boats. There's an obscene amount of them in their little corner. I start looking over the boxes, hoping the answer will be staring me straight in the face. No luck.

    “I think you give me too much credit. This is hard,” I laugh. Harry leans against the wall.

    “Well. If I were to build you a boat, how would I do it?” Harry asks, trying to give me a hint. I think about it for a moment. I honestly have no idea.

    “Well you wouldn't build me a boat. You might be good with your hands but you definitely can't build a boat,” I chuckle. Harry is staring at me intently, an eyebrow raised. Then it clicks. “Oh! That awful interview. Oh man...what did we say? Fuck. Liam asked if you were good with your hands. I made that stupid comment. Nearly outed us. What did you say? Fuck.”

    I knew I was rambling but sometimes talking out loud helps me formulate my thoughts. I look back to the models, scanning over them.

    “My answer to that question is the key,” Harry says. I'm wracking my brain but I cannot for the life of me remember what he said. I was too busy causing trouble at the time. So I go back to the models. They're all so different. Some are plastic. Some look like metal. Some are wood. _Wood! He said he was good at wood shop!_

    I start going through the boxes of models that are made of wood - but even then, there's a ton. I'm about to ask for another hint when I notice that the models have different names. Names of the boats to be exact. They're really quite odd names too. I've never understood why boats have such strange names. _“Pirate's Life”...alright well I guess that one makes sense. “Sign of the Times”. “Addison Lee”. “Slow Hands”. “Little Things”. Oh wait._

    “Ah ha. Clever,” I chuckle, picking up the model labelled as _Little Things_ . I'm surprised to find that for a wood model, the box is incredibly light. Looking at the side, I find the seal is already broken. So I open it. Inside, I find it's filled with red paper hearts. All of which have the phrase _“I want to write you a song. One to make your heart remember me”_ written on them. This clue makes sense immediately.

    During our home visits on the X Factor, Harry's mum had been so welcoming to all of us and insisted on feeding us dinner. She's very affectionate. After we had dinner with Harry's family, I'd notice a vase of flowers on the windowsill. Being the nosy lad that I am, I'd pulled out the card to find out who they were for and from.

_Mum: For everything you've ever done for me. I love you so much. A bouquet of flowers so you remember me even when I'm not there. To make your heart remember me. Love, Hazza._

    Harry had caught me reading the card and getting all emotional. I'd said back then that his words would make for a great song.

    “So. Where to next?” Harry asks. He was next to me again, smiling down at my discovery.

    “A flower shop?” I ask. Harry nods.

    “Nice work. This one's a freebie. You don't have to figure out which one. C’mon,” Harry says, grabbing my hand. And then we're making our way back to Cole. Once we're inside the car, Harry proudly says, “My boy figured it out. Off to the florist.”

    Cole nods and sets out for the flower shop. My head is practically spinning with all of this. The amount of time and effort that Harry must have put into this is amazing. For an eighteen-year-old lad, he sure knows how to sweep someone off their feet.

  
  


    “Lou? Babe, we're here,” Harry says, gently nudging me awake. I sit up and rub the sleep from my eyes.

    “I fell asleep? Shit. I'm sorry. How long were we driving?” I ask. Harry glances at his watch.

     “About an hour and a half,” he says. My jaw practically hits the floor.

    “An hour and a half? Why? What's so special about this flower shop?” I ask. Harry smiles to himself and pulls out the guitar again. But instead of singing to me in the car, Harry gets out and motions for me to follow. Together, hand in hand, we walk into the flower shop. And yet again, I'm reduced to tears. The small shop has clearly been arranged. Everywhere I look, red and white roses are on display along with what looks like hundreds of fairy lights and candles. And then Harry starts the song.

  
_I want to write you a song_   
_One that's beautiful as you are sweet_   
_With just a hint of pain_   
_For the feeling that I get when you are gone_   
_I want to write you a song_   
  
_I want to lend you my coat_   
_One that's as soft as your cheek_   
_So when the world is cold_   
_You'll have a hiding place you can go_   
_I want to lend you my coat_   
  
_Everything I need I get from you_   
_Givin' back is all I wanna do_   
  
_I want to build you a boat_   
_One that's strong as you are free_   
_So any time you think that your heart is gonna sink_   
_You know it won't_   
_I want to build you a boat_   
  
_Everything I need I get from you_   
_Givin' back is all I wanna do_   
  
_Everything I need I get from you_ _  
_ Givin' back is all I wanna do

_I want to write you a song_

_One to make your heart remember me_

_I want to give it all to you_

_Give you everything_

_So you can look and see_

_All the things that we can be_

  
_I want to write you a song_ _  
_ I want to write you a song

 

    Harry puts the guitar down so I know the song is over. I take the time to turn around and appreciate all the flowers. Spinning around, I'm just simply amazed. When I turn back to Harry, he's holding a conspicuously small box.

 

    “Don't talk yet. Let me talk,” he instructs. Even if I wanted to speak, I have no breath. Harry kisses my cheek and holds one of my hands. Then he starts, “Before you freak out. Let me talk. I am so in love with you, Lou. You are the best thing that's ever happened to me. If someone had told me back then, the day we met, that this is where we'd end up...well I'd have told them they were mental. In the two short years we've known each other, I feel like we've truly grown up together. Through recording and touring, we've had the opportunity to grow together. But more than that, our relationship has grown. You truly are my best mate. And I'm lucky enough to be in love with my best friend. While I know we're young, I truly can't imagine my life without you. I know it's not going to be easy. The life we've settled into...well, it's hard. It's complicated and nerve wracking and ridiculous. But it's also amazing. And I'm so blessed to experience it all with you. So...I wanted to write you a song. I wanted to tell you and show you what you mean to me. I wanted to give you something that symbolizes my feelings for you and my commitment to this relationship. We're too young to be engaged. But we're so beyond just boyfriends. So I thought maybe promise rings. But you don't wear rings. And then I found these.”

    I watch as Harry opens the box and pulls out two tightly wound up pieces of black braided cord. They're simple bracelets, each with a small silver plaque. But the plaque is blank. Harry chuckles at my confusion and flips one of the bracelets over. On the inside of the plaque is the inscription _“Always in my heart”_.

    “You really are such a sap,” I say through my tears.

    “Yes. Yes I am. And I'm crazy in love with you. It would mean the absolute world to me if you'd wear this. And accept my proposition that this is more than just a relationship. That this...will hopefully lead to a forever. Will you accept that?” Harry asks. He gently wraps the bracelet around my wrist, securing the ends of the magnetic clasp. Despite the statement that this is not an engagement proposal, it feels like it is. Regardless of intent, my answer is the same.

  
    “Yes!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! Too cute. Also, sorry that the formatting for the lyrics at the very end are so weird. Couldn't get it to transfer over correctly to save my life. Oh well. At least it highlights that those lyrics are different :) Hope you all enjoyed.


	19. You & I

**Chapter 19: You & I**

   Laying in bed next to Harry is one of the best things. It's calming. It's safe. It's like for the moments we're here, no one else exists.

   I sigh contently and nuzzle my face into his chest. I feel his arms tighten around me. My fingers trace random patterns over his skin and I can't help but stare at my bracelet. It's been a few hours since Harry wrapped the leather band around my wrist and I don't think I've stopped smiling yet.

   “If you keep smiling like that, people are gonna find out faster,” Harry points out. I tip my head up to look at him.

    “So? I don't care. Right now...I don't know. This just makes me want to parade you right out onto stage and tell the whole place that I'm madly in love with you,” I tell him. Harry's eyes dance with happiness.

   “I know, babe. Soon. Soon,” he whispers. He places a soft kiss on my forehead and then fumbles around for his phone. He grabs my wrist and holds it up with a big smile on his face and snaps a selfie. Then he lets my hand fall back onto his chest. I watch as Harry attaches the photo to a text message and sends it to both our mums. The caption reading,  _ “He said ‘yes’! ♡”. _

   “Harry! You're going to give them heart attacks!” I shout, smacking him. Harry just chuckles and pulls me on top of him.

   “They've known for weeks, baby,” he says simply. I smile because of course Harry would go and tell our mums.  _ Wait...weeks?! _

   “Exactly how long had you been planning this?” I ask. Harry shrugs his shoulders.

   “I'll never tell,” he says. Harry picks up his head and brings his lips to mine. I start to mumble something about him being a troublemaker but the words are lost as Harry's hand travels to the front of my boxers.

 

   When we finally make it to the venue, everyone is running around in a flurry. Cole ushers us along to our dressing room, deflecting various event staff.

   “Yes. Everyone knows they're late. Get out of the way so they can get ready,” Cole snaps at one particularly insistent man with a headset. The guys grumbles his dislike of “popstars” and finally leaves us alone.

   “Ever the saviour,” I chuckle, elbowing Cole in the ribs. Cole shakes his head and continues shoving us down the corridor.

   “Wouldn't need to be the saviour if I was saddled with the others. How I got stuck with the pair of you, I'll never know,” Cole says. We finally reach a room and Cole shoves us inside.

   “Yeah it's almost like you volunteered,” Harry teases. Cole rolls his eyes and goes to shut the door but he pauses.

   “Do not go anywhere. Please behave for the next few minutes. Please,” Cole begs. We wave him away before being attacked by Alissa from wardrobe.

   “The two of you are going to give me an ulcer,” she spits. She hands each of us a stack of clothes and starts shouting at us to get a move on.

   “Everyone is very pushy today,” I say as I start undressing. Next to me, Harry shucks all his clothes and starts stepping into the jeans that Alissa gave him. I take a moment to stop and appreciate the sight.

   “Louis Tomlinson, move your ass before I start kicking it,” Lou threatens. She strides into the room with a smiling Lux on her hip. She plops the cutie down onto the sofa and starts fussing over Harry's curls.

   “Lou, just leave ‘em. They're gonna misbehave in a matter of moments anyways,” Harry whines, trying to duck away. Lou grabs his face and holds him still.

   “If you were here on time, I'd give you a say. But we don't have time for this. Shut your eyes,” she commands. Harry does as he's told but keeps verbally protesting. Lou shakes a can of hairspray and then douses Harry's hair.

   “Aw c’mon, Lou. Give a guy some warning,” Harry complains as hair spray drifts into his mouth. Lou just clicks her tongue and reminds him not to move too much until it dries. Now that we're both dressed, it's my turn. I watch as Lou grabs a comb and a tub of gel before descending on me.

   “Ooie,” Lux whines. My eyes snap to the beautiful little girl who's now at my feet and making grabby hands at me, signaling for me to pick her up. Afraid to move out of Lou’s work space, I reach out for her to climb up. Thankfully, Harry swoops in and picks her up, depositing her on my lap. “Ooie,” she says again, making another attempt at my name.

   “Hello, beautiful,” I greet her. Lux’s eyes light up. Then she goes about playing with the hem of my shirt. It's not long before she notices the bracelet and becomes completely fascinated.

   “Mine?” she asks. I chuckle and coo at her. She really is the cutest thing ever. I readjust her so she's leaning on my chest as I let her mom work on my hair. But Lux is persistent and again asks if the bracelet is hers.

   “Lux, not everything is yours, sweetie,” Lou gently reminds her. Lux’s little eyebrows furrow at this. Then she grabs my face between her little hands and squeezes.

   “Mine,” she states. This time, her voice is clear with conviction. Lou takes a breath like she's going to challenge her but I speak up first.

   “That's right, little lady. I'm yours,” I coo. Harry snorts. Without thinking, I go after him. “Just because you're not good at sharing…” I joke, letting my voice trail off. Harry sticks his tongue out at me from across the room. He's sitting on the sofa munching down on an apple.

   “Okay. You're done,” Lou finally says. She grabs a towel and starts wiping her hands before picking up her daughter.

   “Let's go, Bert and Ernie,” Cole says, re entering the room.

   “Go where?” I protest just as I'm about to shove a Snickers in my mouth. Cole stares at me like I have seven heads.

   “Where else could I possibly need to get you right now?” he demands. He motions for us to follow. I glance at Harry who looks just as confused as I feel.

   “Did I miss something,” I ask the room of people. Lou stands there with Lux bouncing on her hip again.

   “Louis...you guys are really late. Like  _ really _ late. Lights were twenty minutes ago,” Lou says. My stomach drops. We've never been late getting on stage before. Ever.

   “Shit,” Harry swears. He jumps up, grabs my hand, and then the two of us go tearing down the corridor with Cole at our heels.

 

   “Jesus. It's about fucking time,” Niall says when we finally get back stage. I lean against a piece of scaffolding trying to catch my breath.

   “Where the fuck have you been?” Zayn hisses. A member of the sound crew goes around and hands us our mics.

   “Got sidetracked. Okay let's go. Hands in,” Harry says. The guys exchange glances but no one is pushing it right now. We all throw our hands in.

   “Hi ho, hi ho. It's off to work we go,” he chant before falling into laughter. We stand there, hands together, and smiling at each other like idiots. Despite the hiccups in the last few months, we’re still the same five lads we’ve been since day one: rowdy, impossible to wrangle, and absolutely in love with what we do.

   “Ready?” Liam asks. We all nod.

   “Let's do it, lads,” I shout. We cheer, pull our hands back, and wait for our cue. The fog machines mask our hiding places and then the opening to  _ Clouds _ starts to play. I grin at Harry one more time and then we burst out onto stage.

 

    We're halfway through the set when Liam starts reading out some of the signs in the crowd. Liam loves this. Honestly, most of the signs are quite good. We really appreciate the ones where fans tell us that they love us. Those are the best. Others are just hysterical. There's always at least one that asks for Liam to take his shirt off. He hasn't indulged them yet. But I expect it's only a matter of time.

   “Ah here's one. Tommo, why don't you read that sparkly one over there. The pink sparkly one,” Liam says, pointing to my left. I look over in search of the sign. When I finally find it, I want to melt. Between blush and the smile, I'm useless. The pink sparkly sign nearly makes me cry.

_ Love is Love. #LarryStylinson _

   I, of course, don't read the sign out loud. Instead, I point to the girl holding it and give her a thumbs up. This earns quite a few hoops and hollers from those around her.  _ That'll probably be all over social media tomorrow. Whatever. _

   “Alright everybody. Gonna slow it down a bit, yeah? Where’s the Irishman with the guitar?” Harry asks, making a show of looking around for Niall despite nearly tripping over the blonde one.

   “If you could not step on me, that would be wonderful,” Niall says. He's currently seated on the edge of the stairs that Harry is jogging up.

   “No no. I'd never do that,” Harry chuckles. When he gets to the landing, he pauses to nudge Niall with his boot. They swat at each other and then Harry continues on to his spot in the middle of the landing and sits, his legs hanging down. I walk up the other set of stairs and take my seat a couple steps down from Zayn. Liam cozies up to Niall just as he begins strumming his acoustic guitar. There’s something about watching Niall play that just makes me smile. You can tell that he thoroughly enjoys it.

   “ _ Your hand fits in mine like it's made just for me _ ,” Zayn begins. We fall into the song easily. I find myself looking back to the pink sign repeatedly, each time causing me to smile more. Plugging right along, we all do great. Then, as Harry and Niall begin their chorus, Zayn nudges me.

   “ _ It's you they add up to. I'm in love with Lou. And all his little things _ ,” Harry sings out to the crowd. But as gets to the last bit of the phrase, Harry’s eyes sweep over me. It’s subtle but I don’t miss it. My jaw drops and Zayn just chuckles. It's like the first time all over again. Then we get to Harry's final solo. And he stares directly at me.

   “ _ I've just let these little things slip out of my mouth. Cause it's you. Oh, it's you. It's you they add up to. And I'm in love with you. And all these little things _ ,” he sings. We all slip into the last chorus. I look to Liam frantically but he's just smiling. In fact, everyone is. Liam, Niall, and Zayn are all smiles. I find Harry's eyes locked on me as we float through the last notes.  _ Well shit. _

 

   The set continued on despite me melting into a puddle on the floor. It actually felt like I was unsteady on my feet.  _ He's literally wooing me. He's standing on this fucking stage and making me swoon. What's is this? Honestly. _

   “Thank you so much, London. You were fantastic, as always, and we love you. Thank you for supporting us. We hope to come back and see you all again soon. Please have a good night and stay safe. This is  _ What Makes You Beautiful _ ,” Harry announces. We surge through the last song, really giving it our all, before filtering backstage.

   “For starting twenty minutes late, that was an amazing show,” Cole says, slapping me a high five and giving me a look. I feel blush spread across my cheeks again. I hurry past him, eager to tell my boyfriend exactly what I think of his little stunt.

 

   Back in our dressing room, I grab Harry roughly and shove him against the door, shutting it in the process. I expect Harry to question me but he just grabs my face in his hands instead.

   “I love you,” I tell him quickly before crushing my lips to his. My hands creep up his back and clutch at his skin. Harry's fingers curl in my hair and tug. I can’t help the moan that escapes my lungs.

   “Happy anniversary, baby. I love you,” Harry says, smiling against my lips. I hum and push my hips into his. My hands grip the hem of his shirt and start to pull it up when a throat clearing causes us to jump apart. Whipping around, I push Harry behind me protectively.

   “Well I guess this answers my questions,” our friend, Ed Sheeran, laughs. I let out the breath I'd been holding and relax.  _ It’s just Ed. Breathe. It’s just Ed. _

   “Jesus. Scared me half to death,” I tell him. Ed just chuckles and gets up to hug us both.

   “Sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt. Well no, I did. But sorry to be here interrupting,” he says, stumbling over his words a bit. I shake my head and go flop on the couch, pulling a pillow into my lap.  _ They keep giving me these bloody tight jeans. _

   “What are you doing here?” Harry asks. There's an edge to his voice. Like he's nervous.

   “Well it's good to see you too, Haz. I'm doing an underground show at a club tomorrow. Figured I'd come down early and pop in to see you guys,” Ed says. Then he gestures to the door, “So that, huh?”

   Harry blushes deeply and scratches at the back of his neck. He looks at me like he's asking for a life line.

   “Cat's outta the bag here, babe,” I chuckle. Harry seems to relax at the use of the pet name. He comes to join me on the couch and sits down very close to me. I know from experience that this is a nervous habit of his; Harry practically sits in my lap when he’s feeling on edge or anxious.

   “So. Happy anniversary. How long has this been a thing?” Ed questions. He goes over to a table and grabs a box of pizza. He brings it over and opens it. We all take a slice and take big mouthfuls.

   “Officially? Since March,” I tell him. Harry looks at me and smiles. “What? Did you think I forgot? I know how long we've been together. I also know that I've been completely in love with you for years.”

   “You guys are a walking love song,” Ed says through a bite of pizza. I thread my fingers through Harry's and squeeze his hand.

   “I'm surprised you have been together so long and the rumours are only just coming out now,” Ed says. I cock my head to the side.

   “Rumours? You mean different than the normal rumour mill bullshit?” I ask. Ed shifts uncomfortably.

   “What is it? What changed,” Harry questions. I can hear the anxiety rising in his voice. Ed slowly drags out his phone, pulls up a website, and shows us.

_ 1D’s Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson seen getting cozy in London this morning. _

   Under that glaring headline, there are several more, complete with picture proof.

   “How is this even possible?! I was so careful!” Harry shouts, grabbing Ed’s phone. We scroll through the seemingly endless accusations of our relationship and find the fan reactions are very similar to the debut of  _ Little Things _ . It's a decent mix of support and outrage.

   “On the upside, there's nothing completely incriminating. You guys can argue all these,” Ed says, trying to be helpful. He may be right. I'm about to agree in hopes of consoling Harry when I see him freeze on a particular photo.

   “Fuck. We're done. One Direction just ended,” I say slowly. Ed’s eyes grow wide and he snatches his phone back, his jaw dropping at the photo on the screen.

   “Shit.”

     There on the screen, is a photo of Harry wrapping the bracelet around my wrist, surrounded by fairy lights and flowers.

 

   “Tommo, I love you. But it's way too early for this shit,” Niall grumbles. After a very long, sleepless night, Harry and I decided to call an emergency team meeting. And just to ensure no one would be listening in, we get everyone awake and moving at an ungodly hour.

   “I know. Team meeting and then everyone can go back to sleep,” I say. I grin and start passing out teas to the boys and Maxx.

   “As honoured as I am to be considered part of the team, what has this got to do with me? Generally,  _ your  _ team meetings don't involve me.” Maxx points out. He’s not wrong. When we as a band call “team meetings” we do so in private. It doesn’t include anyone but us and it usually happens in Harry’s and my living room.

   “Well, we have a few issues and you're the only person we know we can trust at this point,” Harry admits. Maxx’s eyes nearly burst from his head.

   “Fuck. What did you guys do now?” he sighs.

   “Nothing. Well...no we're in trouble. But not like you may think. We're past the point of just needing damage control,” I explain. Maxx visibly relaxes and it takes me by surprise.

   “If you're talking about the photos from yesterday, I wouldn't worry. We've already released a statement explaining that they are merely just very good Photoshops and then released the silly photos you all took at your closed reversals yesterday. It's hard to dispute visual proof. You guys can't be in two places at once,” Maxx says. He takes a sip of his tea. Harry, Niall, Liam, Zayn, and I all shift around in our seats. Maxx doesn't miss this and immediately asks what we aren't telling him.

   “We weren't at the closed rehearsal. Those photos we posted to Instagram... _ we _ arranged the photos. They're from the day before. Notice that Louis isn't in any of them? I asked the guys to help me. Louis and I were not at the rehearsal. The photos online of us in London...those are real,” Harry says calmly. Maxx is staring at us. Just staring. After what seems like a decade, the silence is finally broken.

   “Okay. Sparing the gory details, what did you two do yesterday?” Maxx asks warily. Now the rest of the guys are suddenly sitting forward in their seats.

   “Yes, dear friends. Do tell because even we don't know what kind of trouble you caused yesterday,” Liam laughs. I feel the heat rush across my face and Harry is fighting the smile that I can see tugging at his mouth.

   “Oh this should be good. You two look ridiculous right now,” Niall chuckles. Harry and I glance at each other as if asking who wants to take this one. I lift my hand to Harry and shrug my shoulders.

   “This one is all you, love,” I say as I shake my head.

   “Right. Uhm. Well yesterday was our five month anniversary. And we've been through so much and things are finally settling down now that we're touring again. I wanted to do something nice for Lou. So I had you guys stage those photos so we could release them as a cover for where we were. Thanks for helping, by the way. So yeah...we uhm went out and did couple-y stuff. And then did the concert,” Harry says in a very half-assed explanation. Maxx isn't buying that that's the entire story.

   “Go on and fill in all the missing details,” he sighs.  _ Damn. Guess he does know us pretty well _ .

   “Uhm. Well I had a couple surprises. I gave Lou a scavenger hunt to find the surprises. It wasn't that elaborate or anything. Just something fun,” Harry says.

   “Oh come on. Give yourself where credit is due. It was amazing,” I beam. Everyone laughs at me.

   “Maybe you should finish it off, Lou,” Zayn suggests. Suddenly, I'm feeling brave. So I do just that. I give them a detailed account of our day, sans the physical stuff of course. Maxx looks stressed now as the pieces start coming together.

   “Okay. No one can prove which set of pictures are real. It's fine. Everything is fine,” Maxx says though it sounds like it's more for his benefit than ours.

   “Someone is going to figure it out. And soon,” Niall says quietly.

   “Well let's try to drag it out as long as possible. The two of you,” Maxx says, pointing between me and Harry, “You need to behave yourselves. Lay low. And for the love of all that's good, stop changing the damn lyrics.”

   “Yeah...no more of that,” Harry says, rubbing the back of his neck. Maxx stands up and says his goodbyes, grumbling something about needing a pay raise, and then leaves us.

   “You two keep diggin’ ya’selves in deeper,” Liam chuckles. We all sit back and take a breath.

   “So who could have gotten those pictures?” Zayn asks. I feel the anger prickling across my scalp. Harry grabs my hand and makes an attempt to calm me down. We'd briefly talked about this but we didn't really have any answers yet.

   “We don't know. The only person who knows where we were yesterday is Cole. We don't think it was him. We had to have been followed,” Harry says. I close my eyes as I feel his fingers smooth over my knuckles.

   “Alright. So as far as we know, the only people we can trust are each other and Maxx,” Niall says carefully.

   “This is ridiculous. We sound like we're fucking spies. How fucked up is it that we can't even be ourselves? You guys can't even have a proper relationship without the fear of backlash. Who gives a fuck? Honestly,” Zayn says, the tension in his voice cutting through the air.

   “There's no sense in getting mad now. We make the best of it and keep each other in check, yeah? We're touring again...let's make the best of it. We have the coolest job in the world,” I point out. I'm grateful that everyone nods in agreement. I take a deep breath.  _ We can do this. We can. Right? _

 

   Later that day, we drag ourselves all across London doing signings and promos. By the time we get back to the arena to start getting ready, we're all running on fumes.

   “Come sit,” Lou says, waving me over with her comb. I pull at the itchy jeans Alissa gave me and plop myself into Lou’s chair.

   “Can we do something that stays out of my eyes?” I plead. Lou gives me a warm smile and reminds me that it’s me who’s been refusing a haircut for quite sometime. Nevertheless, she pulls out a tub of extra strength styling gel. The stuff is really more the consistency of clay than gel.

   “So. You and the curly one, huh?” Lou asks. I suck in a breath and look around. Lou chuckles and tells me to relax. I see that we're alone so I allow myself to calm down a bit.

   “What about us?” I ask. I have no reason to not trust Lou. But considering everything that's happened, I'm extra cautious.

   “Don't play dumb, Louis. The two of you are so gone for each other,” she laughs. I feel myself smile.

   “I don't know what you're talking about,” I smirk at her. Lou attacks my hair, beaming the whole time.

   “Knew it,” she says. She makes quick work of my hair, tells me she's proud of me, and then hurries out to continue on with the rest of the lads.

   “So. London night two. You ready?” Harry asks, startling me. I watch as he quietly slips into my dressing room and parks himself on the couch.

   “Yep. Provided we both remember the words, it should go smoothly,” I say, poking fun at him. I join him on the couch, leaning over to kiss his cheek. At the last moment, Harry twists and presses our lips together. I hear a click. Then Harry pulls away and looks at his phone. He beams.

   “We take cute couple photos,” he says, showing me his phone. Photo evidence of the mischief that Harry causes.

   “Hmmm. Maybe it was you who released the photos,” I joke. Harry rolls his eyes.

   “Oh yes. I'm trying to sabotage our careers just so I can kiss you whenever I want,” he says dramatically. The two of us fall into a fit of laughter. I live for these moments. When everything else seems unimportant. When all that matters is us.

 

 

   “Alright, fuckers! Shower, change, and let's go get drunk!” Niall shouts. We spill out of the van and head into our hotel. London night two went extremely well. We attempted some note changes and everyone did great. Zayn tried a new falsetto section and he absolutely nailed it.

   “Fuck that, let's just go. We're going to get all gross again in no time,” Zayn laughs. He's got a point. We all look around at each other and then dive back into the van.

   “Club?” Cole asks. He doesn't wait for a response. We make it there in record time and Cole makes us promise to behave.  _ Behave. Ha! _

   “Okay. Who's the sober one?” Niall asks as we get waved into the club. Inside, the music is blaring and the low lights make it difficult to see. Perfect place for us to unwind.

   “Definitely not me!” I shout, grabbing Harry’s hand. I smile as I pull him through the crowd towards the bar. When we get there, I quickly flag down a bartender. I order a couple mixed drinks and a couple shots. Harry needs to relax and the quickest way to get that done is via alcohol. We stay at the bar for a while, giggling as we drink. I notice that Harry doesn’t match me drink for drink but I don’t worry about it. Ever since that time at the club, Harry doesn’t go overboard. I, however, don’t have the same reservations.

 

 

   Unfortunately, the last thing I remember is downing a shot as I stared into my boyfriend’s beautiful eyes. Now, somewhere near me, an alarm is going off. The sound is getting louder and I have to fight to get my eyes open. I roll over and start batting around, praying I find the alarm clock. No such luck.

   “For the love of God, shut that damn thing off,” Zayn croaks. I keep feeling around until I finally find it. I turn it off and fall back onto the pillows heavily. I’m fairly certain that my head is about to explode. I risk opening my eyes again and instantly regret it. The room is starting to spin.

   “Who the fuck let me drink so much?” I grumble, turning over onto my side. I reach out for Harry. My fingers brush against his skin and I feel myself relax. Carefully, I drag my body closer until I’m tucked in behind him. I bury my nose between his shoulder blades. Except it’s not Harry. Instead of the typical sweet smelling strawberry scent, I’m met with the strong smell of designer body spray and cigarettes.  _ Zayn. _ I chuckle at myself and wonder what state the rest of our friends are in. I wouldn't be surprised if this was a repeat of Niall’s last birthday all over again. Let’s just say we all got very cuddly.

   “Not that I don’t appreciate the cuddles, but which one are you?” Zayn huffs sleepily. I wrap an arm around Zayn’s torso and cuddle him close.

   “Who else in this band would cuddle you like this?” I laugh. Zayn squirms a little, giggling to himself. At Niall’s last birthday party, Zayn and I had woken up like this.

   “Fair enough. Just don’t get any funny ideas,” he says. I roll my eyes at him and nuzzle my face back into his shoulder.  _ Should probably find my boyfriend. _

   “Anyone else alive yet?” I ask the room. No response.

   “Who ended up being the babysitter last night?” Zayn asks. I wrack my brain, trying to recall. But I come up empty. In fact, most of the night seems to be a blur.

   “Haven’t a clue. Wasn’t me obviously. And it wasn’t Harry,” I tell him. Zayn hums.

   “Wasn’t me. I’m dead to the world. And I saw Niall doing body shots off some girl. So Liam?” he suggests. Leave it to Liam to be the responsible one. Taking a deep breath, I slowly pull myself upright. My stomach immediately somersaults but I don’t vomit. Not yet anyways. The real problem is my head.

   “Fucking Christ...my head is going to explode,” I groan. My eyes take a moment to adjust. When they do, I’m utterly confused. The rest of the guys aren’t here. And I have no idea where we are. The hotel room isn’t familiar at all and none of our stuff is here. “Z...where are we?”

   “The fuck do you mean?” he asks. I pull back the duvet so I can get up and nearly pass out.

   “Holy fuck. Zayn! What the fuck happened?!” I shout. This sends a shock through Zayn and he sits bolt upright. His hair is a right mess. His neck is also covered in dark purple love bites.

   “What...the...fuck,” he says. Headaches. Love bites. Strange hotel room. And no memory of the night.

   “I’m gonna go call Maxx,” I sigh. I rummage around the mess of clothes on the floor until I find my phone.

28 missed calls from: Hazza

_ Fuck. I’m dead. Dead dead dead dead dead. _ I open my phone and click on Harry’s contact. On the fourth ring, he finally answers.

   “Where the fuck are you?” he shouts. I wince at the volume.

   “Baby, easy. My head feels like I was hit by a truck. Listen...I don’t know what the fuck happened. And I don’t know where we are,” I tell him. Harry sucks in a breath.

   “What do you mean you don’t know where you are?! Where are you?!” he demands, yelling again.

   “Bloody hell! If I knew where we were, then I wouldn’t be saying that I don’t know where we are, would I?! No. Fuck. Stop fucking screaming at me,” I spit at him.

   “Are you fucking with me? Cause it’s not funny,” Harry says, his voice quiet now. I scrub a hand over my face.

   “How would I be fucking with you, love? I just woke up in a strange hotel room with one of my best mates and no recollection of how we got here. I think I should be the one asking you if you’re fucking with me. And, for the record, you’re right...it’s not funny,” I tell him. I fully expect my curly haired love to erupt in a fit of giggles and tell me it’s all a game. That they’ve pranked us. But he doesn’t.

   “First of all, don’t call me love. Second, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about and I don’t particularly care. And third, you and Zayn, assuming that’s who you’re with, need to get yourselves to the meet and greet. We’re all here and waiting on you guys,” Harry says. Then the line cuts out.  _ This has honestly got to be a joke. What is this? _ Harry puts up a fight about the pet names when he’s mad at me. I probably said something stupid last night. Because I’m a complete tosser and only I would manage to fuck up our anniversary after Harry made it so perfect.

   “Lou? We have a problem,” Zayn says. His voice is small - like he’s hesitant. I look back and find him sitting cross-legged on the bed, his phone in his hand. Slowly, he lifts the phone so I can see.

_ One Direction’s Louis Tomlinson and Zayn Malik seen leaving London hotspot with two fans! _

   “Oh for fuck’s sake,” I groan. I grab the phone and start reading the article.

_ British heart throbs Louis Tomlinson and Zayn Malik, both of mega boyband One Direction, were seen partying at a popular club in London on Friday night after their sold out performance at the O2 Arena. Sources say two fans in particular seemed to pique the boys’ interest and were seen dancing together for most of the night. When Tomlinson and Malik left the club in the early hours of Saturday morning, the two ladies were seen exiting as well and being escorted to a waiting car. _

   “What the fuck is this?” Zayn spits. I throw his phone down onto the bed.

   “Just once...just once! I want to have something go right without something else falling apart immediately afterward,” I sigh, flopping onto the bed. This is going to be a disaster.

 

 

   “It's no secret that One Direction is gaining momentum. You went from being the band that came in third on the X Factor to the band that is selling out massive arenas. In all honesty, did you ever imagine you'd get here?” Nick Grimshaw asks. The radio DJ sits in his chair facing the five of us, waiting for someone to answer.

   “I think I can speak for everyone when I say that we couldn't have imagined this. Never in a million years did we think this would all be happening in such a short time frame. The support from fans has been absolutely incredible,” Liam answers.

   “One Direction fans truly are amazing, aren't they? They're so dedicated,” Nick comments.

   “They really are. It's one thing for them to show up at our shows to support us but it's another thing entirely when they support us off the stage. We've all been getting a lot of attention lately for various reasons and I'm so thankful for the fans who take a step back and say ‘You know what? It doesn't matter. They make music I love and I love them’. Those are the fans that I really appreciate,” Zayn says. We all nod in agreement.

   “Louis, you've been very quiet this morning. And you were a bit late rolling in. Late night?” Nick says, shifting his eyebrows suggestively. I immediately look off to the side to Maxx. He nods his head and motions for me to answer.

   “Uhm yeah. It was a late night for all of us really,” I say, not elaborating. I hope Nick drops it but he doesn't.

   “Alright I'll just ask then. Any lucky lady charming your heart right now?” he asks. Instinctively, I look at Harry. He looks extremely upset, his eyes red rimmed.

   “Not giving away any details on that one, Grimmy,” I laugh. Nick chuckles and we move on with the interview.

 

   “Are you going to talk to me at some point today?” I ask as we walk down the hallway. The rest of the guys are in front of us, leading the way out to our cars.

   “No,” Harry says. His voice is flat and emotionless - like he really couldn't be bothered.

   “I'm confused as to what you think happened. I didn't sleep with anyone,” I tell him. Harry turns to glare at me.

   “I know that,” he spits.  _ Well then what the fuck is this about? _

   “Okay...so why are you mad?” I ask carefully. I watch as Harry's eyes widen and fill with tears.

   “If you can't even see why I'd be mad, then we have more problems than I thought,” he says. He keeps walking, leaving me in stunned silence.

 

   When we reach our cars, Harry claims Cole and tells everyone that he needs to be alone for a bit. Not wanting to push it, the four of us file into the second car so Harry can be by himself until we get to the next interview.

   “Tommo, what is going on?” Niall asks once we're settled and on our way. I let my head fall back against the seat. It still feels like I'm about to explode.

   “I honestly have no idea. Last thing I remember is doing shots with Harry at the bar. Next thing I know, I'm waking up with Zayn in a weird hotel room clear across the city,” I explain. Niall and Liam’s jaws nearly hit the floor.

   “Excuse me?” Liam demands.

   “What?” I ask, confused. Liam clenches his jaw and then take a steadying breath.

   “What do you mean you woke up together?” he asks, his voice wavering.  _ Oh fuck. _

   “Not like that! Jesus. No we literally just woke up. No idea how we got there,” I tell them. Liam doesn't appear to relax at all.

   “Why is Harry mad at you?” Zayn asks quietly. I shrug my shoulders.

   “I have no idea. I told him I didn't sleep with anyone and he said he knew that. And that if I honestly didn't know why he was upset, then we apparently have more problems than he thought,” I say. Niall gives me a sad look. I then go on to explain the article Zayn and I found this morning and that Maxx couldn’t give me very many details aside from confirming that Zayn and I were not with anyone last night, (evidently Zayn’s love bites are from a girl he danced with at the club). Apparently the two fans mentioned in the article got into their own car and left in the opposite direction of me and Zayn. But, of course, the media can’t relay that information. Then, there would be no story.

   So I explain everything I know, which admittedly isn’t very much. Niall still looks at me with big, sad puppy dog eyes.

   “You're screwed,” he says simply. I can't help the huff that leaves my lungs.

   “No kidding,” I mumble.

 

   The next three interviews are more of the same. Nearly identical questions - even the ones directed at me and Zayn over last night. We do a good job of deflecting and staying on topic about the album and tour.

   When the last interview is finished, Cole drives everyone back to the hotel. We're supposed to pack and be ready to leave for the airport within the hour. I'm dreading all of it. I hate packing. I don't want to be in the same hotel room as Harry while packing. And I don't want to spend an hour and a half on a plane with Harry while we fly to Ireland. But all of those things are required.

   When we get to our room, I try to make quick work of throwing our things into our bags. Harry just sits on the bed, staring at his hands. So I grab his backpack and start loading up the things he always takes for the flights: a change of clothes, his ancient iPod, earbuds, his favourite jumper, snacks, a book, and his little travel pillow. I throw everything into the bag and hand it to him. He takes it without saying anything.

   I finish packing and go to stand by the door, waiting for him. Very slowly, Harry gets up and walks to the door. I notice that he's crying.

   “I can't fix it if you don't tell me what it is,” I tell him. Harry sniffles loudly and the tears flow more freely. I drop everything I'm holding and pull him in for a hug. I expect him to fight me but he doesn't. He just lets me hug him. But he doesn't tell me what's wrong either. He just hugs me, cries, and then pulls away, leaving me to deal with our suitcases.

   Back in the car with Cole, Harry cuddles up to my side but doesn't talk to me. And I don't push it. The entire ride to the airport is spent like that.

 

   The airport itself is chaotic as always. There are fans everywhere, begging for selfies and autographs. We each take a couple minutes to say hello before we're ushered inside to our gate.

   “As much as I love seeing them, I wish we could just travel without the craziness,” Zayn chuckles. Getting through security and to our gate takes more time than usual and before we know it, they're calling our flight.

   “How big do we need to get before we can take a private jet?” Niall wonders out loud.

   “Like you care. You sleep the entire time anyways,” Liam teases. We find our seats in first class and settle in as Maxx runs through the plan with us.

   “Okay we fly into Dublin, get our stuff, go to an interview, drop everything at the hotel, and go to another interview. Then tomorrow, you have two signings, an interview, and then some free time before the show. Questions?” Maxx asks. Niall raises his hand.

   “Where are the interviews?” he asks excitedly. Niall has been talking about this show ever since we booked the venue. Last tour, we didn't go to Ireland and he was pretty upset.

   “Two radio stations. Nothing fancy,” Maxx says dismissively. Niall shrinks down a bit in his seat. Maxx turns to Paddy, our head of security, and begins discussing the logistics of getting us to and from places. Another member of security, Paul, leans forward and slips Niall a folded up piece of paper.

   “What’s this?” Niall asks. Paul gestures for Niall to open it. Niall unfolds the paper and his face immediately lights up.

   “What is it?” I ask. Niall leans in close so only I can hear him.

   “The second interview today...it’s in Mullingar. After we’re done, there’s nothing else to do. I can go home and see my family,” he whispers excitedly. I watch fondly as tears start to well up in my friend’s eyes. As far as I’m aware, Niall hasn’t been home for over a year. He’s seen his family in that time - they made trips to both the US and London - but he hasn’t been to his hometown in quite some time.

   “That’s awesome, Nialler. This is going to be great for you,” I smile at him. The blonde nods and excitedly pushes the paper into Liam’s hands. Niall smiles as his boyfriend has a similar reaction. Liam’s hand wraps around Niall’s and I see him squeeze. They exchange a small smile and I feel my stomach tighten. Everything in my head is screaming at me to ignore the desire to look at Harry.  _ Don’t do it, Tomlinson. Don’t look at him. _ But I look.

   Harry, as always, is breathtakingly gorgeous. His curls are a haphazard mess and currently stuffed under a beanie. I’m a little sad that it’s not one of mine. His jeans are worn and ripped in all the right places and are stuffed inside a pair of soft combat style boots. I know they’re soft because I can’t count how many times I've untied them for him. Between exhaustion, alcohol, or sheer laziness...I somehow find myself often removing Harry’s shoes for him. And other things…

   I try to shake myself out of the thoughts but I catch sight of Harry’s jacket. Or rather, the shirt  _ under _ his jacket. In the chaos that was getting to the airport and onto the plane, I’d barely noticed that Harry had kept his jacket zipped. Now that we’re getting ready for take off, I watch as Harry shifts around and tries to get comfortable. He struggles to free his arms but once he does, I get a full view of his shirt. He’s wearing one of my old, worn out Vans tees. It’s one of my favourite shirts and one that I often sleep in. My stomach twists further as I watch Harry’s long fingers curl around the material and lifts it to his nose. He takes a deep breath. His eyes are closed and I’m thankful that they are. I don’t want him to know that I’m watching. But moreso, I don’t want to see his eyes. I’m terrified of what they hold. Or maybe what they lack.

   “Any idea what you did yet?” Niall whispers. I shake my head sadly. Niall pats my arms and then turns his attention back to Liam. The seating arrangements on this flight suck. In our section of first class, some of the seats face each other. This would make sense for people that are maybe traveling for work, (work that maybe doesn’t involve performing at sold out concerts). The layout makes it easy to see the rest of the boys and would definitely make it easy have a pleasant conversation. Unfortunately, not even comfy seats can make that happen.

   “Lou,” Zayn says, grabbing for my attention. I look up and meet his gaze. I’m thankful that it’s him who’s across the way from me. Zayn cocks his head to the side, gesturing towards Harry and lifts his eyebrow in a question. I just shake my head. I’m closest to the window. Niall sits to my right and then Liam is on the aisle. I look straight ahead at Zayn, trying to pretend that Harry isn’t right there. Right in my field of sight. He sits just to the left of Zayn, occupying the middle seat. I wish he were farther away. I wish he was sitting behind us with Paddy, Paul, and Maxx. But no. He’s sitting right there. All of a sudden, I can feel his eyes on me. Why I do it, I have no idea. But I look up.

   And there they are. Those big green eyes that I’m in love with. Watching me. Slipping past my own eyelashes and staring straight into my soul. I’d like to say that I looked away - that I was strong enough. But I can’t. So we sit there in silence, staring at each other.

 

   Eventually, we look away. I only know this because the next thing I know, Niall is shaking me awake.

   “Do you want something to eat?” he asks. I shake my head and dig through my pockets for my phone. Surely we must be almost to Dublin. My phone tells me that we’ve only been in the air for half an hour. I groan and slump down in my seat a bit.

   “What’s wrong, Lou?” Liam asks, leaning over Niall.

   “I fell asleep and I was hoping that we were close to landing,” I tell him.

   “Anxious already? Thought you liked flying,” Zayn comments. I shrug my shoulder and turn to look out my window.

   “I don’t know. I’m just feeling...cramped. Like I can’t breathe,” I tell them. No one says anything but I do hear Harry suck in a breath. Liam sighs.

   “Alright that’s it. Both of you. Get up,” Liam instructs. I don’t move and neither does Harry. Liam stands, looks between the two of us, and says “I’m not kidding. Get up now or I’ll physically move you.”

   “What exactly do you expect us to do? It’s not like there’s ample space to have a heart to heart when we’re thousands of feet in the air,” Harry says, his voice dripping with venom. There’s definitely an underlying tone of hurt. But the venom nearly chokes the words.

   “I don’t care. I’m sick of the two of you hurting each other. Louis, I don’t know what you did and Harry, I don’t know what you think he did. But this has gone on long enough. Throughout your entire relationship, you’ve done this. When things get rough, you ignore each other. Let’s not forget how that’s worked for you in the past. Now...get the fuck up and let’s go,” Liam spits at us. I immediately look around, frantically searching for anyone that could have heard him. But on this flight, first class is completely separated from the rest of the passengers. And we are the only people in first class. So we’re safe.

   “I don’t feel like having this kind of conversation in front of all of you. It can wait,” I huff. I cross my arms over my chest and glare at the clouds outside. Liam grabs me by my ear and yanks me to my feet. I swear and try to push him away but that only seems to hurt me.

   “Stop acting like children and do what Liam says,” Paddy sighs. I look back at him.

   “Oi! Who’s side are you on anyways?” I grumble. Paddy chuckles.

   “Everyone’s side. I agree with Liam. You need to sort yourselves out before it starts affecting the whole lot of you. So talk. Argue. Hug it out. Whatever you need to do. Just try not to kill each other and don’t be too loud,” Paddy says. With that, Liam drags me over to the bathroom and opens the door. It’s small. Definitely small. Liam shoves me inside and motions for Harry to join me.

   “This is asinine. It can wait until we land,” Harry protests. But Liam isn’t having any of it. He grabs the curly haired boy by the arm and guides him into the bathroom. He’s not gentle. He grabs Harry by the back of the shirt and shoves him into the bathroom with me, causing Harry to slam into my chest. It startles both of us. Out of habit, I caught him. I’m holding him, clutching his body to my chest. I can feel his fingers gripping my arms so tightly, I’ll likely bruise.

   “Ah. Perfect positioning,” Liam says, clearly pleased with himself. “Talk this shit out and get yourselves together. But please...if you’re going to join the mile high club...just  _ do it _ quietly.” Liam fishes a bottle out of his pocket and puts it on the small counter.  _ Lube. Seriously? _ Then he shuts the door, leaving us alone. As soon as Liam is gone, Harry moves away from me far too quickly. He pulls his arms away like the skin contact is burning him. Something inside me breaks.

   “We don’t have to talk,” Harry says, straightening his shirt. Well, my shirt. I contemplate all the scenarios. We could talk. We could actually stand here in this cramped space and hash it out. Or we could argue. Gods above known we’ve got plenty to argue about. Or we could stand here in uncomfortable silence. Or we could blame each other. Or we could ignore Liam and just go back to our seats. Or…

   Or I could say “fuck it”.

   So that’s what I say.

   “Fuck it.”

   I watch as confusion passes over Harry’s face before he realizes what I’m doing. There’s a split second of panic and then I’m crushing my body against his. My hands dive into his curls and use the grip as leverage. I pull Harry’s mouth to mine and kiss him. I whine when Harry pulls away again.

   “What does Liam expect? What do you expect? That a kiss will fix it?! That I’ll just give in and fall into the arms of the boy that I like?” Harry asks, staring me down. His use of the word “like” stings. That familiar feeling of “now or never” creeps into my body.

   “Maybe. Or maybe he expects me to give in and fall into the arms of the man that I love,” I say softly. I risk him pulling away again as I stretch forward to capture his lips. I’m rewarded with a soft sigh, Harry’s lips moving against mine. Then everything shifts.

   Harry’s hands grab a rough hold of my hips as he pushes me backwards into the wall. I stumble a bit, pulling Harry with me. Our mouths collide again in a mess of tongues and teeth. Harry bites my lower lip, eliciting a moan from me. I’d initially meant for this to be soft and gentle. That’s what I thought we needed. But Harry’s roaming hands change my mind.

   “I want you. Now. Right here,” I breathe into his mouth. Harry nods and grabs at the hem of my jumper. He yanks it off and drops it to the floor. The small room fills with muffled swears as we struggle to discard our clothing.

   “Blow me,” Harry commands. I crouch down, careful not to fall over, and bring Harry’s cock into my mouth. My tongue slides across the head and down the underside. Hearing the breathy moans that escape my boyfriend’s lungs drive me wild. It’s not long before Harry’s hand grips my hair and his hips are thrusting forward at a punishing pace. A string of swears tumble out of his mouth just before he finds his release. I stare up at him through the wisps of my fringe. Sighing, Harry says, “You look good like this.”

   Slowly, I stand back up and shake out the muscles of my legs.

   “Yeah? You like watching me down on my knees for you? Sucking your cock?” I ask. Harry groans and claims my mouth once more. His kiss is rough and possessive.

   “Fuck me,” Harry pleads. I shiver as he kisses along my jaw and then nips at my neck.

   “You don’t have to give me anything. This was about you,” I tell him. Harry’s fingers dig into my hips and he bites down on my neck.

   “I’m still mad at you. Sucking me off doesn’t change that. Now fuck me and make me forget that I’m fucking angry,” Harry hisses.  _ Bloody hell. He’s trying to kill me _ .

   “Fine,” I grumble. Harry nearly knocks me over. His mouth attacks my shoulder, sucking marks that are sure to bruise. Harry seems very possessive today, littering my body with marks. Not that I’m complaining though.

   “No excuses,” Harry says, grabbing the lube off the counter. I consider telling him to slow down. To let it go for now and we’ll talk later about why he’s mad at me. I consider begging him to let us return to our seats. But then I watch as Harry opens the lube, pouring a generous amount onto his fingers. He reaches around to start fingering himself. That’s about the time that any self-restraint goes flying out the window.

   “Fuck,” I swear, mesmerized by the sight in front of me. Harry turns around, facing the small sink. He braces himself against it with one hand while he uses the other to work himself open. Small whimpers fill the confined space.

   “Stop staring at me and fuck me, Tomlinson,” Harry hisses. I grind my erection against his ass, making Harry catch his breath,

   “For someone who is quite fond of slow, gentle love making...you talk a big game. Beggin’ me to fuck you. You really want it like this? Stuffed inside a tiny airplane bathroom. Pinned between me and the sink? This is what you want?” I tease. My fingers skate across his bum and down to his hole. Despite Harry’s effort to loosen his muscles, he clenches around my finger.

   “Stop stalling and get to it,” Harry spits, pushing his body down onto my hand. I carefully add a second finger, pushing in up to the second knuckle. Harry moans and swivels his hips, searching for more.

   “You want this. You want me to fuck you right here. Force you to take my cock while you moan and whimper. A complete mess for me,” I whisper into his neck. I grab the lube and make quick work of spreading the substance over my painfully full erection.

   “If you don’t fuck me soon, I’ll go ask Liam to do it,” Harry states. His voice is cool and measured and I know he says it to get the reaction out of me. Obviously, it works. I position myself at his entrance and thrust forward, sinking all the way into him. Harry swears and whines at the sudden motion. Somewhere in my head, I know he probably needs more prep. But I’m angry. His threat of asking Liam to fuck him runs through my brain over and over.

   “You. Are. Mine,” I say through gritted teeth. Harry tips his head to the side, away from me, and pushes back into my hips. I lean forward and attach to his neck. I know for a fact that this will leave a huge lovebite. But that’s the purpose. Even though I know that Liam would never sleep with Harry, I feel threatened. I also know that Harry only said such a thing to piss me off.

   “Harder,” Harry begs. So I oblige. I grab his hips and piston in and out of Harry’s tight heat, slamming into him over and over.

   “You’re so fucking tight, baby,” I moan.

   “Ugh right there. Don’t stop,” Harry groans. I reach up and wrap one of my hands around Harry’s throat, forcing a gasp out of him. I drag him back against me so his ear is close to my mouth.

   “Stop telling me what to do. You’re not in charge. I am,” I growl. Then I push the top of his body forward, bending him over the sink. I weave a hand into his curls, pulling his head back. Harry whines and continues to moan. Hearing his reaction to me being so rough brings me closer to the edge.

   “I’m gonna cum again,” Harry breathes. I take the hint and plow into him as hard as I can. The heat starts to pool in my belly as I chase my release. Harry starts to moan louder and throws his head back into my shoulder as he cums. His walls tighten around me, sending me over the edge only a few moments behind him. I thrust forward a few more times, emptying everything I have inside him.

   “Fuck,” I sigh, slumping forward against Harry’s back. We catch our breath a bit before I carefully pull away, slipping out of Harry. I grab a wad of toilet tissue and hand it to him.

   “Thank you. Get dressed and get out,” Harry says.  _ Wait...what? _

   “Babe...what did I do? I don’t get it,” I say. Harry cleans himself up and reaches for his jeans.

   “I said I was still mad. I meant it. I’m not having that conversation in here though. So get dressed, pull yourself together, and we’ll talk about it later,” Harry says. He pulls on the shirt he’d been wearing and makes an attempt to smooth out his curls. We finish dressing and Harry reaches for the doorknob. I catch his hand and hold it in mine.

   “I’m not going to pretend that I understand what is happening. I don’t know what I did but I can swear to you that I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’ve done wrong but clearly I’ve hurt you. I’ve never meant to hurt you. Nothing can come between you and I. No one can separate us. I won’t let it happen,” I tell him. I quickly kiss his cheek and then exit the bathroom. I go back to my seat quietly and watch as Harry does the same. As he sits, I notice that what just occurred in that bathroom is painfully obvious. Harry’s curls are an unruly mess despite his attempt at taming them. That and the large mark on his neck is already starting to bruise. Niall and Zayn try to stifle their giggles.

   “The two of you are so predictable,” Liam chuckles. I lean across Niall and shove Liam.

   “Fuck off,” I say. I stare out my window and think. I’m honestly torn between being sad, angry, and happy. I’m sad that something is wrong. I’m sad that I’ve upset Harry. I’m mad that Harry won’t talk to me about it. I’m mad at myself. But because I’m a guy, I’m also pretty happy that I’ve just joined the Mile High Club.

   I don’t know what kind of a conversation is awaiting me when we land. But I take solace in the fact that Harry looks much less angry now. He even smiles when he catches me staring at him. It’s not a wide smile - not like the one I’m used to. But it’s something.


	20. 18

**Chapter 20: 18**

**Niall's P.O.V.**

   The flight to Dublin seems to last for an eternity. Harry and Louis appear to be getting on slightly better. They look less grumpy. Though it's hard to be grumpy when you've just joined the Mile High Club. I have to resist the urge to picture how that went down. It's not like I make a habit of imagining my two best mates fucking...it's just that Liam and I haven't done much for a few days and I'm getting antsy. Seeing Harry emerge from the bathroom looking thoroughly fucked and a very pink-cheeked Louis trailing after him doesn’t help.

   “Alright, love?” Liam asks quietly. I glance over at Zayn and see that he's snoozing, his head propped against the window. Seeing that he’s asleep eases my anxiety of interacting with Liam in front of him. I don’t walk on eggshells for our sake, but for his.

   “Yeah ‘m fine. I just uh...just excited to go home,” I lie. Well it's not a complete lie. I am excited to go home. Truthfully, I want to tell Liam what's on my mind. I want to tell him how badly I want to drag him in that bathroom and make him scream my name. But for obvious reasons, that's not an option.

   “You sure?” Liam asks, clearly not buying my answer. I nod and slip my hand in his. I like the blush that spreads across Liam’s cheeks. Oh how I'd love to kiss him right now. But with our relationship still under wraps and Maxx sitting just behind us, I settle for discreetly holding Liam’s hand.

   “Yeah I'm sure. Actually...I was thinking and I have a question for you,” I whisper. Liam raises an eyebrow at me.

   “That sounds serious,” he says, a nervous smile clinging to his mouth.

   “Relax. It's nothing bad. I uhm...I'd like for you to meet my family. I mean I know you've already met them. A few times actually. But I want you to meet them...now. Like now that you're...my boyfriend,” I say, taking care to keep my voice low. “It's important to me.  _ You _ are important to me and so is my family and I want to tell my parents.”

   “Really?” Liam asks, his voice barely audible. I smile warmly and nod, my thumb brushing over his knuckles.

   “Yeah. You don't have to, of course. If you’re uncomfortable, I understand. I just wanted to ask,” I finish. Liam squeezes my hand, smiling brightly.

   “I’d love to,” he says. We fight to suppress the giggles but Louis catches the interaction.

   “Honestly, the two of you are so sweet, I think I'm getting a cavity,” Louis jokes, staring down at his phone. I roll my eyes and elbow him.

   “You're one to talk,” I say, flipping my eyes to Harry. Louis chuckles and elbows me back. I'm happy that my friends seem to be in a better mood but something still seems off. Somehow, I feel like the rough part isn't over.

 

   Navigating airports usually isn't a hassle. Between Paul and Paddy, we rarely have issues. Today, however, is a disaster. We manage to walk the complete wrong way once we leave the gate. We end up on the opposite side of the terminal. And to make it better, when we finally find the correct luggage carousel, we learn that some of our bags were delayed. They're enroute...just on a different flight. Louis and Zayn’s bags won't arrive for a few hours.

   “I look awful. I can't go to interviews and meet and greets looking like this. What if they don't come in before the show?” Louis rambles. He looks quite upset.

   “Don't worry, Lou. The interviews are at radio shows. Yeah, there will probably still be cameras and whatever but it's not that important. No one is going to care. And I know your stuff will be here before tomorrow. It's only a few hours. Don't worry,” I say, trying to soothe him. Louis wraps an arm around my shoulders, hugging me.

   “Always the optimist,” Lou says. He smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes. Louis looks...worried. Like maybe there's something bothering him aside from what's happening with Harry.

   “Alright, everybody move,” Paddy says, herding us towards the waiting cars. Everyone gets settled and I can't contain the excitement.

   “I get to go home,” I whisper into Liam’s ear. Liam grabs his backpack and holds it up, blocking us from everyone's view.

   “I know, baby. I'm excited you get to go home too,” he whispers. Liam’s lips brush against mine quickly before he lowers his backpack. I turn and see Harry staring directly at us, an eyebrow raised.

   “Don't start,” I warn, trying to sound serious. But I just end up laughing anyways.

   “Didn't say a word,” Harry comments. He starts humming the chorus to  _ Everything About You _ .

   “Subtle,” Liam laughs, nudging Harry with his foot.

   “Guys, listen up. First interview should be easy. The second, though, could be tricky. We've provided each station with a list of prohibited questions which are mostly questions about Harry and Louis,” Maxx explains, staring down at his phone. I look up and watch my friends. Harry and Louis are sitting next to each other and holding hands but that's it. They don't talk to each other or interact.

   “Anything else?” Zayn asks. Maxx goes on about some other off limits topics. Namely any scandals having to do with the band, any rumoured relationships with other celebrities, and other often repeated questions. Regardless of how many times we've answered it, the classic “Who drives you crazy most on the tour bus” and “What does you miss most about home” questions always come up.

   “Just try to behave yourselves,” Paul pleads from the front seat.

   “Since when have we ever?” Louis scoffs. Paul rolls his eyes as the rest of us laugh.

   “One can dream.”

 

 

   “Hello, everyone. We've got quite the treat for your this afternoon. We've got One Direction in the studio! Welcome, boys. Welcome to Ireland. How's it been so far?” the interviewer, Andy, asks. The five of us are perched on stools, all huddled around the table, mics stuffed everywhere.

   “Yeah it's been great so far. Everyone has been very nice,” Liam says. We all mutter in agreement.

   “Fantastic. Now, Niall, is must be especially exciting for you coming here. How does it feel to be home?” Andy asks. A smile breaks out across my face.

   “Absolutely amazing. I'm so happy to be back. It's been quite a while. I've seen my family and what not because they are willing to come to London and the US but it's been over a year since I've been here. It's really great to be back. And I'm so excited to do a show here,” I gush. Andy gives me a warm smile.

   “Is it hard for you? To be away from your family, that is,” Andy asks.

   “Uh sometimes, yeah. Sometimes things happen and ya think ‘oh I've got to tell my mum’ but it has to wait because of time differences and whatever. I think in general it's just different. You know we've really been going non stop for awhile now. What with being on the X Factor, that tour, two albums, then our own two tours...it’s a lot. For the most part, everything is happening so fast that the time passes really quickly as well. I mean before ya know it, the tour will be over. We're all trying to enjoy it while it's happening. But yeah, we definitely miss home when we're on tour,” I answer honestly.

   “And do the rest of you feel the same way?” Andy asks the rest of the boys.

   “Yeah I think what Niall said really sums it up. I think the hardest part is just being away from our parents. I mean we're young and to a certain degree, it's cool to travel the world and get to do what we do. It's like every kid's dream. But at the end of the day, we miss our families. I think it would be different if we were adults and all lived on our own when we started out. But we were all still living at home when we started the X Factor. Doing what we do has sort of forced us all to grow up a bit,” Zayn adds.

   “And how do you all like growing up? You've all got your own places now, right?” Andy continues.

   “Niall, Liam, and I each have our own flats,” Zayn says. It's simple enough but of course Andy has to jump at it.

   “Ah yes. And there's the dynamic duo. Harry, Louis, you live together. How's that?” he asks. Harry and Louis stiffen, immediately looking to the side for Maxx.

   “Yeah, we live together. It's not bad. Though I'll admit I don't do much,” Louis says, chuckling.

   “Ah. Leave all the chores to Harry then, yeah?” Andy laughs. Harry and Louis look at each other, shrugging.

   “Basically. I don't mind though. Lou is an awful cook,” Harry points out. Louis grips his chest, mimicking a shot to the heart.

   “You wound me. You ate that chicken I made,” Louis defends.  _ Oh here we go. _

   “Yes, the chicken. I've heard about the chicken. Tell me again how it went,” Andy leads Louis into the stupid story. There's a collective groan as the boys and I assume the position: hands out in front of us, ready to demonstrate.

   “Oh you lot,” Louis rolls his eyes at seeing our reaction. “So. It's chicken...stuffed with mozzarella cheese...wrapped in parma ham...with a side of homemade mash.”

   The entire time that Louis is explaining this iconic dish, the rest of us are acting out the process of preparing this meal and desperately trying to contain the laughs.

   “Well. Seems like you boys may have heard this story before,” Andy laughs.

   “Oh yeah maybe once or twice,” I tease. The rest of the interview is harmless and actually enjoyable. Andy stays away from the prohibited questions and does a great job of helping promote the new album.

 

 

   “Nice job, lads. We're going to drop our things at the hotel and then continue on,” Maxx says, staring at his phone. I genuinely think that the majority of his day is spent staring at his phone.

   “Any word on our luggage?” Louis asks. Maxx shakes his head and Louis whines.

   “You'll be fine,” Harry says, soothing him. I watch as Harry's thumb brushes across Louis’ leg. He gives Lou a thumbs up and then presses it into Lou’s thigh. Louis then does the same - gives Harry a thumbs up and pushes it against Harry's knee. I make a mental note to ask about it later and then turn my attention to the city outside our windows.

   I really love Ireland. And not just because it's where I was born. It truly is my home. Everything I know is here. My family. My friends. Most of my memories. Everything is here. Now that I have Liam and we're both here, well it feels complete.

   I'm shaken from my thoughts by my phone buzzing in my pocket.

**Mum: Hello, love. Just checking in. How was your flight?**

**Me: Was fine. Quick. Not all our baggage got through though. Louis and Zayn’s bags are delayed.**

**Mum: Oh no. That's too bad. If they need clothes, I can always bring some to the show. Between you, Greg, and your dad’s clothes, I'm sure I can find things that fit them.**

**Me: Nah I think they'll be fine. The show isn't until tomorrow and I think if Louis has to go that long, he'll just buy a new wardrobe. He's freaking out about it.**

**Mum: Well I would too. It's a comfort thing.**

**Me: Yeah I suppose.**

**Mum: I'm looking forward to seeing your show. Greg and dad are going as well. We're all so proud of you.**

**Me: I'm excited too! I know I just saw you in New York a few months ago but I'm still excited.**

**Mum: I know, love. Do you think you'll have time to spend with Greg before the show? I know he likes hanging around in the dressing room with you.**

**Me: Yeah of course. You guys are always welcome there.**

**Mum: Great. Alright I've got shopping to do. Have fun and be good.**

**Me: Yes mum. Love you.**

**Mum: Love you too**

   “Are you not telling her?” Liam asks, eyeing my phone. I lock the screen and drop it into Liam’s backpack.

   “No. I want it to be a surprise,” I smile. Liam grins and returns to his own phone.

   I struggle to contain myself over the next few hours. I'm just so excited that I can hardly keep still. Between pacing, fidgeting, and eating...well I'm sure I'm driving the boys mad.

   “Nialler, ya gotta relax, mate,” Louis laughs from behind me. We're currently squished into a single SUV and making our way to Mullingar.

   “Sorry. Can't,” I say quietly. I really do want to calm down. I don't want to annoy my friends. But I'm way too amped up.

   Thankfully, the drive doesn't take long and before I know it, we're pulling up in front of my childhood home.

   “You okay?” Liam asks. It's only then that I realize we're still in the car. I'm frozen. Glancing back to my boyfriend, I smile, telling myself everything will be fine.

   “Maxx, Paddy...can I have moment with the boys?” I ask. Nodding, they each get out, leaving me alone with my bandmates.

   “What's wrong?” Zayn asks, his eyes concerned. I take a deep breath.

   “They...my parents and Greg...my family doesn't know that I'm into guys,” I say, the words finally tumbling out.

   “You don't have to tell them,” Liam says gently.

   “I want to. I'm just scared,” I admit. Liam grabs my hand and squeezes.

   “Well whatever you decide, we support you,” Harry says, smiling. Louis and Zayn nod in agreement. And with that, we finally get out. Now that I'm moving, I'm flying. I run up to the door and slow down only to open it.

   “Mum? Dad?” I call out. I hear something drop in the kitchen and my mum pokes her head around the corner, her jaw dropping. She immediately falls to tears. Wiping her hands on a dish towel, she makes a beeline for me, folding herself into my hug.

   “Oh my boy,” she cries. I hug her tightly, kissing her cheek.

   “Ah don't cry, mum,” I say as the emotion thickens my own words. Before I can gain control, the tears spill down my face, wetting her shirt.  _ Well I'm already a mess. _ I tuck my face into her shoulder and let her really hug me.

   “Niall? Is that you?” my dad asks from up on the landing. He jogs down the stairs and reaches the bottom just as my mum is letting me go. My dad sweeps me into a firm hug before stepping back and holding me at arm's length. Then he ruffles my hair, “You got taller.”

   I playfully bat his hand away from my hair. He makes it sound like he hasn’t seen me in years.

    “Catching up to you, old man,” I joke. That earns me a light whack from my mum.

    “Behave yourself. Alright everyone in. Paddy, I hope you're seeing your family while you're here,” My mum says, ushering everyone into the kitchen.

   “Yes ma’am,” Paddy laughs. We all know better than to dispute my mum. Or any of our mums really. Let's be real...they're the bosses.

   “Good. Okay. Other than Niall, who's hungry?” she asks. Everyone raises a hand, including me.

   “Why other than me?” I ask. My dad laughs and sets about helping my mum pull together the necessities for sandwiches.

   “Because you're always hungry,” Liam says, nudging me with an elbow. He's not wrong.

   “Are you sure you can't stay? It wouldn't be the first time you've all slept over. How you manage to cram into that room though, I don't know,” my mum laughs, referencing the time that all five of us slept in my room. My bed was big enough for me and Harry. But Harry and Liam had hauled one of the couches up into the tiny room for Lou, Zayn, and Liam to sleep on.

 

 

   “As much as we'd love to stay, we're exhausted,” Louis says as we all stand by the door. My parents say their goodbyes to each of them, hugging my friends, and standing back as we filter out. I'm half way down the path when I change my mind. I halt suddenly, reaching out and stopping Liam with me. My fingers curl around Liam’s wrist, holding him.

   “I want to tell them,” I say quietly. Liam gives me a warm smile.

   “Okay. We'll stay around the area then while you talk to them. If you need us to come back and get you, just call me,” he smiles. But I shake my head.

   “No. I want you there too,” I say, watching his reaction closely. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see a wide smile spread across my boyfriend's face.

   “Okay,” he says simply. He pulls out of my grasp and jogs to the car. He says something to Paddy, Maxx, and the boys. Harry breaks into a ridiculous grin while Zayn looks a little somber. Then Liam rejoins me as the SUV pulls away.

   “Niall? Is everything okay?” my mum calls from the porch. I turn around and see my parents still standing under the little light. Liam and I walk back up the path.

   “Uhm...yeah. I just...well I wanted to talk to you guys about something,” I say, nerves creeping into my words.

   “Oh alright. Well come on then,” she says, leading us back inside. I watch as my parents exchange a glance before taking a seat on the couch, leaving me and Liam to sit on the love seat opposite them.

   “What's up, boys?” my dad asks. I try to take a calming breath but it's not very settling. I capture the edge of my thumb in my mouth, nibbling on the nail.

   “Honey, what's wrong?” my mum asks, noting my nervous habit. I quickly stuff both hands under my thighs.

   “Uhm. Well there's uh...something I've wanted to tell you both. For awhile now actually. Uhm. I'm j-just...well I'm n-nervous,” I stutter. My mum looks at me with concern.

   “Goodness. I have heard you stutter in years. Whatever it is, it’s okay, love. Dad and I love you,” she says softly. Hearing the sentiment immediately forces tears to my eyes. Then they're falling and I feel completely out of control. I desperately want to reach out for Liam. I know he'd comfort me.

   “Niall, you're scaring us. What's wrong?” my dad questions. I can hear the anxiety in his voice and I feel awful.

   “I'm...well the thing is. I'm...I think I'm...well no. I'm definitely...shit,” I cry, unable to force the words out.

   “Niall is moving to LA. Permanently. He's been stressing about it for weeks. He's terrified you guys will be upset with him since this has been his home his entire life. He feels bad leaving you,” Liam says. He swoops in so gracefully and refocuses their attention to him. I love him for it...except this poses a new problem.

   “Oh...but Niall, we already knew that? What's going on?” my dad questions. I feel Liam twist to look at me. I hadn't told him about LA.

   “What?” Liam asks, now also confused. I use the heels of my hands to rub my eyes. The, letting my hands fall back into my lap, I angle my body towards Liam.

   “Li...I'm moving to LA when we come back from touring. Permanently,” I tell him. Admitting this is easier than turning to my parents and explaining myself. I watch as surprise washes over Liam’s face before that shifts to happiness. Without thinking, I lean into Liam’s side. I feel Liam’s arm curl around my waist, pulling me close.

   “Why didn't you tell me?” he asks softly. I smile and shrug my shoulders.

   “Wanted it to be a surprise,” I tell him. Liam laughs and shakes his head at me. I keep wanting things to be surprises and then I go and screw them up.

   “Niall…” my dad says, his voice sounding strange. He looks between me and Liam and where Liam’s arms is wrapped around me.

   “Yeah. Uhm...what I wanted to tell you. When I move...I-I'm g-gonna be livin’ with L-Liam,” I say. My voice is small and timid. I want to crawl into a hole and hide. I really don't want to be having this conversation. I just want to curl up with Liam and pretend this isn't happening.

   “Live with Liam. Because...you’re best friends? Or..?” my dad asks, leaving it open. I sigh.

   “We're together. Like...dating,” I say. And there they are. The words are out, flopping around on the living room floor.

   “Liam, come with me,” my dad says, standing up. My eyes snap between my mum and dad. No one says anything. Liam just quietly gets up and follows my father out to the back deck.

   “What are the odds that dad is going to kill him?” I ask, trying to break the tension. I watch my mum carefully, trying to gauge her reaction. I nearly fall apart when I see her smile.

   “I doubt it. I expect this is the ‘If you hurt my son, I'll kill you’ talk. So really dad's just giving him fair warning,” my mum chuckles.

   “So you're not mad?” I ask hopefully. My mum gets up to join me on the loveseat.

   “Niall James Horan, I will never be mad at you for being who you are. That's just ridiculous. Dad and I love you very much. And Liam is a lovely boy. I can't say I'm not surprised but I just want you to be you,” she says, patting my arm. I pull my mum in for a hug and together we wait for the pair on the deck.

   When they return, perhaps ten minutes later, my dad looks quite pleased with himself and I can't really read Liam. My dad goes into the kitchen, pulls two beers out of the fridge, and hands one to Liam.  _ This is a good sign. _

   “Maura, did you know that Liam cook?” my dad asks, coming back into the living room. I watch as he plops himself down in his chair, directly in front of the telly, and turns it on.

   “Well I should hope so. Cause Niall can eat. And his cooking skills are the bare minimum. You've got your work cut out for you, love,” she says to Liam. She gets up from her seat and goes to the kitchen, pausing to kiss Liam’s cheek on her way by. To say I'm perplexed is an understatement.

   “So?” I ask, eyebrows raised as Liam settles in next to me. I watch as he takes a long pull from his beer.

   “We are expected to trade off holidays with my family. And your dad expects us to be here for Christmas this year. Which is fine because my parents will be traveling. I'm not allowed to let you go out with your friend Sean alone. Apparently you need to be chaperoned. I'm not to let you argue your way into pizza for dinner two nights in a row. Oh and if I hurt you in any way, your dad and Greg will kill me. And make it look like an accident,” Liam recounts as he watches the football game like it's so big deal.

   “If they find you at all,” my dad adds. At the same time, Liam and my dad each lift their beers in salute.

   “Oh Lord,” I sigh. Liam leans back into the cushion, opening his arms so I can cuddle him. So I do.

 

 

   “They would've let us stay, ya know,” I whine as Liam leads me out to the waiting SUV. It was hours later when Liam finally texted Paddy asking for a ride. Both my parents insisted they didn't mind if we stayed the night - they were even fine with Liam sleeping in my room. But Liam claimed he needed to take a medication that was in his bag. Apparently this medication is “very important”. I know he doesn't take any medication but I also know better than to question it. There had to be a good reason.

   Liam opens the door for me and offers to help me up.

   “I'm quite capable, thank you,” I tease, lifting my nose at him. It would have been cute...if I hadn't then tripped over my own feet.

   “Mhmm. And that's the last time I take you at your word,” Liam chuckles. He grabs my hips and gentle guides me up into the SUV. I grumble my displeasure and scoot over so Liam has room. I'm pleasantly surprised to find just Paddy in the front seat.

   “You alright, Niall?” Paddy feigns concern despite the amused look he gives me in the rear view mirror.

   “Shut it, Irish,” I spit without a single ounce of venom. Paddy chuckles and pulls away from the house as soon as Liam has closed the door.

   “Seriously though. My parents were fine with us staying,” I say, pulling at Liam’s shirt to get his attention. Liam captures my wrist in his hand and pins it against his chest.

   “I know. But I refuse to have sex under your parents’ roof,” Liam says, dipping his head to brush his lips against mine. It's like he's just ripped the rug out from under me.

   “Did you honestly just out us? Just like that?” I demand, staring between Liam and the back of Paddy’s head in horror. Liam giggles and leans in to kiss my jaw.

   “He found your toys, love. Next time, maybe don't label them,” he laughs into my neck. I feel the embarrassment wash over me like a tidal wave. When we’d been packing up, Liam had teased me when I threw all our toys into a single plastic bag. So then, just for laughs, I separated them out and labelled them individually. “Mine”, “His”, “Niall”, “Lima Bean”, “Do not put this in Niall’s ass”, etc.

   “Fuck. Sorry, Paddy,” I apologize.

   “It's not the strangest thing I've seen on one of these tours. Word of wisdom...don't go through Tomlinson’s bags. Nothing can prepare you for that,” Paddy jokes. My stomach drops.

   “Shit...that must be why Lou is stressing out over his bag so much,” I say. Liam rolls his eyes and sighs.

   “Here I am, kissing up on your neck, trying to be cute, and you're thinking about Lou and his baggage woes,” Liam says dramatically. I grab Liam’s face and kiss him. Hard. My mouth slides against his, daring him to take it further. Just as his hands start to move to interesting places, I pull back and scoot away from him.

   “Behave yourself, Payne. We have company,” I scold him half heartedly. Liam glares at me from his side of the car and makes a show of readjusting the front of his jeans. Then he settles for a pout. “Stop pouting. You can wait.”

 

 

**Harry's P.O.V.**

   “Hey guys. Gotta handle something here. Hang around a bit until I text you, yeah?” Liam asks, excitement and nervousness rolling off his body in waves.

   “Yeah alright,” Louis chuckles, giving Liam a fist bump.  _ Boys. _ I roll my eyes at myself and settle in for what I expect to be a long car ride.

   “What's that about?” Maxx asks as he watches Liam jog back to Niall. The blonde Irish boy is standing on the little path to his house and looks completely terrified.  _ You can do it, Nialler. _

   “It's best you don't know,” I tell him. Maxx turns around to look at each of us, clearly hoping for an explanation. When he doesn't get one, he turns back around and grumbles something about wondering if he can ground us.

   I pull out my phone and see a new text from Louis.

 

**Boobear: Are we done fighting yet?**

**Me: No.**

**Boobear: What do I have to do? Honestly Haz...I’m at a loss.**

**Me: You can start with fucking me senseless when we get back to the hotel.**

 

   I hit send and watch Louis, waiting for him to open the message. He does and I grin as his jaw immediately falls open, his head snapping up to look at me. I fight the urge to laugh and instead turn to look out my window.

   I don't want to fight with him. I want to pretend that nothing is wrong. We need to talk. But I'm happier just pretending for now.

 

   “You're fucking infuriating,” Louis growls, pushing me down onto the bed. We'd lost our clothes the moment we stepped inside our room, Harry pulling off my shirt before the door had even closed properly.

   “You're one to talk. Just fuck me,” I spit. Louis delivers a hard smack to the left side of my bum. I yelp and turn my head to glare at him.

   “Did I say you could look at me?” Louis demands.  _ Uh oh. This just got interesting. _

   “Ha!” I laugh knowing full well this is going to earn me another smack. And it does. Now the right side of my ass stings and I may or may not love it.

   “You better not be pretending to be mad just to get me going,” Louis grumbles, pulling my hips up so my ass is in the air. I roll over so I'm on my back and then get up in his face, our chests almost touching.

   “Fuck you. I'm fucking mad at you. I don't make this shit up just to get you going. I'm fucking furious with you,” I shout at him.

   “THEN FUCKING TELL ME WHY SO I CAN FUCKING FIX IT. OR APOLOGIZE. OR BOTH!” Louis bellows. I can't help but cringe a bit at the volume. Reminding myself that I'm the one calling the shots right now, I puff out my chest a bit and stare him down. (And yes, it takes an astronomical amount of personal strength not to melt into the blue abyss that is his gaze).

   “I'm not fucking interested in a goddamn apology if you don't know what the fuck you're even fucking apologizing for!” I shout. I don't think I've ever sworn so much in my life. But I honestly can't contain myself right now. I'm just that mad. But being mad is easier than being sad.

   “You're impossible. I fucking love you. I'm so fucking in love with you. We just fucking celebrated five months together. You are what I want. You're what I  _ need.  _ But I don't know how to convince you,” Louis says, his voice getting softer throughout the statement. When he finishes, his voice almost sounds broken.  _ No. He can't cry. If he cries, I'll cry. _

   “Show me,” I say without thinking. Louis stands there, staring at me like he's afraid to move. I grab his hands and place them gently on my hips and repeat myself. “Show me.”

   “Harry,” he starts but I cut him off by kissing him. Our mouths slide together easily. I nudge his lips apart and lick inside his mouth. Louis’ hands are gentle on my body as he brings me in closer, holding me tight against him. I can't help it. I sigh and completely lean into the kiss. I wrap my arms around his neck, my fingers diving into his soft, caramel coloured hair.

   “Please show me,” I say, breaking the kiss. Louis looks at me with questioning eyes but he doesn't ask. I'm glad he doesn't. We start moving towards the middle of the bed when Louis pauses. I grab his hand, trying to pull him with me but he resists.

   “I...I need  _ you  _ to show me. I want...I want you to show me,” he says quietly, blush spreading over his nose and under his eyes. I cock my head to side and stare at him for a few moments before it clicks.

   “Show you...like ‘ _ show you’ _ show you?” I ask for clarification, completely in disbelief at his request. Very slowly, Louis nods. He walks over to my bag and digs through it until he finds the lube he'd packed. He walks back to the bed and silently hands me the bottle. Then he stands there. I’m in complete disbelief. I reach out for him, pulling him to my body. We kiss again, soft like the previous. Suddenly, I notice how soft Louis feels under my touch. I've never noticed it before. Sure, I know he's cuddly. I know he's smaller than me, obviously. But I've never noticed how small. I've grown several inches since we met and I've got a good lead on him now. His lips are ridiculously soft and his hair feels like feathers underneath the pads of my fingers. The skin of his neck is smooth and practically begging to be kissed. So I do. I duck my head and leave light kisses across his flesh, working my way down to his collarbone. Louis’ head tilts to the side giving me more access. I take the opportunity to gently nip at his jaw, making him giggle.

   “Harry...please,” Louis begs, looking at me with big blue eyes. I cradle his face in my hands, fighting with myself in my head over what to do. But then Louis says, “Please make love to me.” And that's the end of the argument.

 

 

   “No! Fuck you, Styles! We’re having this bloody conversation. You’ve told me over and over that it’s not the time or place to have this conversation. Right here - right now - is it. We are having this conversation,” Louis shouts. I pace back and forth in our dressing room while Lou fusses over my boyfriend's hair. I pause and look at our hair stylist who is trying to appear very busy with the Doncaster lad’s uncooperative fringe. A small smile is tugging at her lips.

   “You can’t be serious. We’re surrounded by people!” I shouts back at him.

   “First of all, it’s just Lou and Lux. One doesn’t care and the other doesn’t understand. Second of all, I’ve bent over backwards for you the last two days. Ever since we landed, I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me. So we are having this discussion now! I think you owe me at least that,” Louis tries to reason.  _ For the love of god...not here, Louis. _

   “No. I refuse to have this conversation in front of people. No offense, Lou,” I say, nodding at our friend who's still dragging a comb through Louis’s hair.

   “I’m not taking sides here...but is it a good idea to go on stage with this unresolved issue? Will it throw you guys out of sync?” Lou asks. Louis looks at me with an “I told you so” face.

   “Let’s just get it over with,” Louis spits. I continues to pace.  _ I can't have this conversation here. I just can't. I'll cry. _

   “We can talk about this after the show. We’re running out of time before lights,” I point out, hoping he drops it. Louis leaps out of his seat, ignoring Lou’s protests, and charges at me.

   “We are talking about it right now. We are supposed to be a team. If you can’t talk to me about things, then we have a real problem. You’re acting like a child! You’re running away from this. You’re just scared. Man up and tell me what’s wrong! Fuck! Just say something!” Louis practically screams at me. Gritting my teeth, I stare him down. Then, sighing, I drop my eyes to the floor. The memories of why I'm so angry come flooding back into my mind.

 

_ “Haaaaaarryyyyyy, you've got to let loose,” Louis slurred after his seventh shot. He needed to slow down but Louis has never been one to listen when he's already had that much. Seven shots and god knows how many mixed drinks later...Louis had definitely had enough. _

_    “Maybe we should head out, yeah?” I suggested. Louis waved his hand in front of my face, almost like he was dismissing me. _

_    “We just got here. If you don't want to drink with me, then just go dance or something,” Louis said. He grabbed my untouched shot of tequila and tipped it back. He slammed the glass down on the bar and looked at me. I guess he was dismissing me. _

_    I didn't say anything. Instead, I left him there at the bar. I walked away, angry tears flooding my eyes. I started searching for the bathroom but I got dragged onto the dance floor. I started getting my usual excuses ready in my head. “Sorry, I'm an awful dancer. Don't want to step on your toes”. Or “I'd really love to dance but I need to find my bandmates”. Or even “My girlfriend wouldn't approve”. Any of the quick lines to get me away from having to dance with some stranger. _

_    But as my eyes focused under the low lighting, I saw that it was Niall. I leaned in close so he could hear me over the intense bass line. _

_    “What are you doing? Where's Liam?” I shouted into his ear. Niall grabbed onto my shoulder and I felt his lips brush my ear as he spoke. _

_    “He said he needed to talk to Zayn. That they needed to bury the hatchet or whatever,” he said. I pulled back and gave my friend a concerned expression. Niall smiled and shook his head. He grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled my ear down to his mouth again. “I'm not worried. Liam and I are in this for the long haul. I trust him. And he trusts me. Which is why I know he won't mind if I dance with you!” _

_    I laughed and allowed myself to relax. This could be fun even without Louis. _

_    “Alright. But no making fun of my dancing,” I shouted. Despite the music and noise of the club, I could tell Niall got the message. So we danced. We moved along with the rhythm, swayed in appropriate places, and had a great time. Louis would usually dance with me if I asked him but he doesn’t let go like this. Niall matched all my moves, his body twisting with mine effortlessly.  _

_    A handful of songs later, I couldn't help but be worried about Louis. _

_    “I'm going to check on Lou. I'll be right back,”  I shouted. Niall gave me a thumbs up and went back to dancing. I made my way through the crowd and back over to the bar. As I got closer, I saw Zayn perched on a still next my boyfriend. I immediately felt better. At least he wasn't alone. _

_    “Hey guys,” I greeted them. Zayn gave me a bright smile and then turned back to his drink. I opened my mouth to ask Louis to dance but snapped it shut when I saw the bartender pour a couple shots for then. He slide them across the bar and then looked up at me. _

_    “Do you want one too?” he asked, the bottle of tequila still in his hand. Before I could respond, Louis jumped in. _

_    “Pretty boy here isn't much of a drinker,” he told the bartender. Then he turned to me. “Done dry humping Niall?” _

_    “Excuse me?” I asked once I picked my jaw up off the floor. _

_    “Did I fucking stutter? Are you quite finished trying to get Niall into your pants?” Louis asked. I watched as Louis grabbed the shot and tossed it back. _

_    “I think you've had enough to drink,” I said. I grabbed his unfinished mixed drink and slid it down the bar. _

_    “What the fuck is your problem?” Louis demanded. He turned on his stool so he was completely facing me. _

_    “My problem? I'm not the one getting piss drunk in a club and acting like a complete ass. What the fuck is your problem?” I shouted at him. Louis then grabbed Zayn’s shot and drank it. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. _

_    “You're my fucking problem.” _

 

   That night, I saw a side of Louis that I'd never seen before. I had no desire to see it again. That was the night I decided we needed to talk about the drinking. Him blacking out that night and then scrambling to the interview the next morning was just another straw on the metaphorical camel’s back. I wish I could say that night in London was a rarity. But despite everything going relatively smoothly over the last few months, there had been more than one occasion where Lou had drank too much. But London was the worst.

   “Say something? Okay. You want to really talk about this here? Fine. You have a decision to make. It’s either me or the alcohol. You cannot have both. You need to choose, Louis. I do not like the person you turn into when you go overboard like you did at the club. Obviously you don’t remember...but you were mean. Really mean. You disappeared from the club. You left without telling me. You ignored my calls. You woke up in a strange hotel room with no recollection of how you got there. That's not okay! Something could have happened to you. And I would've never known! You're right...we are supposed to be a team. It's an equal partnership. But when you drink to the point of treating me like that...it's too much. I thought you'd have learned after the hospital. But obviously not. You need to choose, Louis. Me or alcohol,” I yell at him. I'm crying now. Big fat tears are streaming down my face as I shout at him, unable to bottle up the emotions any longer. And Louis just stands there in what I assume to be stunned silence.

 

**Louis’ P.O.V.**

   It feels like the breath has been knocked out of me. There’s a gaping hole in my chest where Harry has just ripped my heart out.

   “Harry...Harry that’s not even a question. I didn’t...I d-didn’t realize it was such - such a problem. I’m s-sorry. Baby, I’m so sorry. I won’t d-do it again. Ever. I’ll never drink as long as I live. I swear, baby,” I tell him. I stumble over my words as my mouth tries to keep up with my brain.  _ How can he even believe I could possibly choose alcohol over him? And when did this become a problem? _

   “I want you to think about it. I don’t want you to make any rash decisions. This is something we really need to talk about together,” Harry says, his voice softer now. His calmer demeanor, however, is exactly the thing which sends me into a panic. He’s preparing to run. This is how he gets before he cuts everyone off.

   “No no no. Baby, please. I don’t need to think about it. I don’t. I could never choose anything or anyone over you. Never. You’re all I could need, Harry,” I say, internally begging him to believe me. Harry closes his eyes, more tears slipping out between his dark eyelashes. When he doesn’t say anything, a piece of me breaks. And then another piece. It feels like I’m falling apart in front of him.

   “I'm gonna go. You're both all set for lights. Uhm...good luck,” Lou says awkwardly, wiping her hands on her jeans. She scoops Lux up and they leave us.

   “Babe...you can't really think I'd choose alcohol over you,” I say. Harry refuses to look at me.

   “You don't remember...but you already have before. That night at the club...you chose alcohol. I tried to get you to leave. To stop drinking. You asked what my problem was. So I called you out on the drinking and asked what your problem was. And you said...you said…” he says, his voice failing at the end. Something in the pit of my stomach twists.  _ I couldn't have said he's the problem. I wouldn’t say that. _

   “Please...please tell me I didn't,” I practically beg. Harry looks up to meet my gaze. I've never seen my boyfriend look so broken in his entire life. Harry’s chocolate curls fall around his face, framing his brilliant moss green eyes. He’s breathtakingly beautiful. And I’ve broken him. The sad, detached look in those eyes I love...that’s my fault. I’m the reason why he looks broken.

   “You said I was your problem,” Harry confirms. I want to die. I want to fall down, right here, and die.

   “I...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Harry,” I whisper, completely at a loss for what else to say. This is undoubtedly the worst thing I've ever done.

   “I know you're sorry. You're always sorry. I want you to stop putting yourself in situations where you have to be sorry after. After the show, I want to talk about this. Not a quick ‘yeah it won't happen again’ conversation. A real conversation about what we are doing and what's happening,” Harry says. I nod my head.

   “That's a good idea,” I say quietly. I feel like a kicked puppy. That look that little kids get when they've been scolded - the “kicked puppy” look - well if it has a feeling, this is it. I don't like it.

   “Let's go, boys,” Cole says, poking his head in and breaking the silence. Harry tells him we're coming and then moves towards the door. I follow silently. Just as we're about to leave the dressing room, Harry stops and turns back to me. One of his hands reaches up and cups the side of my face.

   “Just so we are perfectly clear. You don't actually have a choice. It's you and me. We're going to figure out the rest together. But you don't actually have a choice in this,” Harry says. His voice is soft and smooth but yet incredible forceful. The look on his eyes tells me he isn't kidding. I smile and lean forward, my fringe brushing his nose.

   “There is no choice. It’s gatta be you,” I whisper. Harry tips his head back and laughs - a real Harry Styles laugh complete with dimples.

   “Oh god. Quoting our songs so badly that it's corny is my job,” he chuckles. I take a chance and pull him to my chest for a hug. I’m rewarded by my boyfriend’s arms tightening around my waist. I can’t help the giggle that bubbles up out of me. Than, as if further proving that we are indeed made for each other, we speak at the same time.

   “These arms were made for holding you.”


	21. Train

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm so sorry it's taken me forever to update. I suck. There is a time jump in this chapter. I know a couple of you guys have asked about Lou's issue with alcohol. I know it hasn't been explained very well. I know. It's written that way on purpose. Hang on a little while longer and things will clear up. Over the next few chapters, a lot of questions and loose ends are going to be thing together and making more sense. So that's it. Enjoy!

**Chapter 21: Train**

  
  


    I watch as my friends buzz around the room getting ready for the show. Niall’s kicking a football around, maneuvering around everyone while Liam is still doing push ups. How that man can do so many push ups and not even break a sweat is beyond me. Zayn is pacing as usual and Harry is bouncing. Literally bouncing. I grab my freshly popped bag of popcorn out of the microwave and sit on the couch to watch the curly haired one play with Lux.

    “Mine,” Lux smiles, pulling at Harry’s curls. Harry giggles, lifts the toddler up, and blows raspberries into her tummy. The little girl squeals and buries her face in Harry’s curls.

    “Have you seen a more perfect picture?” Zayn asks, plopping down next to me on the couch. Zayn laughs as Lux makes a mess of Harry’s curls.

    “You have no idea,” I sigh. I watch fondly as Harry continues to play with Lux, tossing her in the air, rolling around on the floor with her, and finally cuddling her against his chest.

    “Think that’s in the cards for you guys?” Zayn asks. My heart nearly stops and then kicks into overdrive. Harry and I have talked about kids. A few times, actually. The general consensus is that yes, we do want kids. But the when and how are two topics we’ve yet to figure out or agree on. 

    “It definitely is. Not sure when. But it is,” I smile. Zayn looks at me, his honey eyes searching my face.

    “You’re happy?” he asks. I look back at harry and Lux and then look around the room at everyone. I smile.

    “Yeah, Zee. I think I am. You?” I return. I don’t miss the way that Zayn quickly looks over at Liam before dropping his gaze to his hands.

    “No. But I will be,” he says. My heart aches for my friend. I want to fix it. I desperately want to take everything into my own hands and fix this for him. But I can’t.

    “Alright, lads. Let’s go!” Niall shouts, kicking the football clear across the room. I toss the bag of popcorn onto a table and follow everyone out towards the stage. The closer we get to the waiting area, the louder the cheering gets. The energy is amazing. Everything is just...electrified.

    “Hands in,” Harry commands. We all throw our hands in and look around the circle. These moments, right before we run out onto stage, are always the best. Harry gives a quick speech, we do our chant, and then the lights go down.  _ Here we go. _

 

**Two Months Later**

    “Louis, we have to leave!” Harry yells from downstairs. We've only been on break for three days and I'm already about to kill the curly haired cherub. 

    “Baby, we don't need to leave for half an hour,” I shout back. I hear Harry huff and then his feet shuffling down the hotel room's short hallway. Then he's bursting in the room, a scowl on his beautiful face.

    “We need to leave. I want to stop and get coffee on the way. And I don't want to be late,” Harry whines. I sigh and move to sit at the edge of the bed.

    “Surely people won't really be angry if we skip this, yeah?” I ask, pleading with my eyes.

    “Unlike the rest of the world, I am immune to your puppy eyes, Mr. Tomlinson. And  _ I  _ would be angry if skip this. This is the first holiday that we're officially together. And it's your birthday. You mother will skin you if we aren't there,” Harry says. He grabs my jacket off the small desk and hands it to me.

    “It's just a birthday, Haz. I have one every year,” I sigh, rolling my eyes. It's not that I'm not happy about turning twenty-one. That's pretty exciting. I can actually drink legally in the US now. But does that matter? Nope. In fact, I won't be drinking at all because of Harry's ultimatum. I'm not bitter. I'm really not. But I do miss having a good time.

    “Well excuse me if I want to celebrate the day my boyfriend was born,” Harry says, his voice dripping with hurt.  _ You're an asshole, Tommo.  _ I get up and immediately wrap the taller boy in a hug.

    “I'm sorry, Haz. I'm being a dick,” I apologize, kissing his neck. Harry giggles and hugs me back.

    “You're forgiven. Now let's go!” Harry says excitedly. I watch as he bounces out of the room, leaving me to shake my head.   
  
  


 

    “Hazza! Tommo! It's about time,” Niall grins, clapping me on the back. Harry smirks at me.

    “Yeah well  _ someone _ was dragging his feet,” he says, moving to hug Liam. Our friends really went all out for this party. All our friends and families are here. The five of us chipped in for costs but Liam and Niall handled the planning.

    “Oh sure. It's my fault. I suppose the ungodly long line at Starbucks is insignificant, yeah?” I ask, giving him a look. Harry's eyebrows pinch together as he glares at me.

    “We might have avoided the line if you didn't demand a blowjob as soon as we got into the car,” he practically growls. I tip my head back and laugh.

    “Then don't shake your pretty little ass at me. I was going to behave. But you had to be sassy. Couldn't justify fucking you against the rental. Then I'd have to get it washed. Getting head was the next best thing,” I say, completely unphased by our small audience of fellow bandmembers. Niall immediately starts to laugh, Liam rolls his eyes, and Harry's cheeks practically burst into flames. I grab Harry by the collar and tug him to me, my lips brushing his ear. “If you're going to try to embarrass me, I will punish you.”

    I let go of his shirt and smile as I watch Harry fuss over his clothes before finally excusing himself. He turns and inserts himself into a conversation with our mothers.

    “You can't ever let him win, can you?” Liam jokes. I smile a thank you to Zayn as he hands me a drink.

    “Absolutely not,” I chuckle. I take a sip of my drink and nearly drop it. It's faint...but it's there. The slight burn I love.  _ Tequila.  _ I look at Zayn, questioningly. He lifts his own drink to me in salute.  _ I can't drink. Harry will kill me. One drink couldn't hurt though...right? Besides, it is my birthday. Surely Harry would give me a pass today.  _

    I lift the drink to my mouth again but pause, the liquid sloshing against my closed lips.  _ I really don't want this. _ I lower the drink and wordlessly hand it back to Zayn.

    “What's the matter, Lou?” Liam asks, grabbing the drink. He takes a quick swig before immediately glaring at Zayn. Liam voice is sharp, “Why would you give him alcohol?! He's been sober for two months.”

    Although his voice is barely above a whisper, Liam’s words thunder through my ears and echo around my head like a storm.

    “Didn't think it was a big deal. It's his birthday,” Zayn shrugs. Liam’s eyes are burning. He opens his mouth like he's going to fight back so I step in.

    “It's not a big deal. Honestly, I'd love to have a drink to celebrate. But I really don't even want it. I can celebrate with soda,” I smile at them. Zayn nods and slips away, walking in the direction of his sisters.

    “I can't believe you guys got everyone here,” I say, looking around the large space. We rented out a function room in a hotel situated right in the heart of New York City, a few blocks away from the hotel Harry and I were staying. The location had been my demand - both where we stayed and where we celebrated. Harry once told me that he always fantasized about a Christmas holiday in New York. So that's what I gave him.

    “Yeah it wasn't easy. Coordinating your lot was quite the adventure,” Niall laughs. I can only imagine what a nightmare that was. Between all the kids, my mum, and their schedules...well I'm impressed they made it work.

    “Thank you, guys. This is really great. And totally beats sitting on the couch and being grumpy all night,” I laugh. We share a laugh before breaking off to visit with each of our families.

    “Oh my baby,” my mum says, pulling me into her arms.

    “Not a baby anymore, mum,” I smile, hugging her. Anne quickly swats my arm and shushes me.

    “Doesn't matter how big you get. You'll always be our baby,” Anne says. She leans forward and kisses my cheek. As much as I'd like to say I kept up my tough guy exterior, I didn't. In fact, the sentiment makes my eyes tear up. 

    “I love you guys,” I say quietly, hugging both the women.

    “We love you too,” my mum whispers. 

  
  


    “Thank you all for coming. I'm so thankful for our boys who made this all possible. Spending a holiday surrounded by friends and family is truly a blessing. And being able to celebrate Lou’s birthday with so many or our loved ones is incredibly special. Louis, ever since you were a kid, you put up such a fight about your birthday. Being a Christmas Eve baby, I think you felt cheated. So every year, right up until you moved out, we celebrated your birthday a week early. Just to make you happy. And now, here we are, celebrating on the actual day, and you look happy. You look so happy, love. And I know the major reason for that happiness is standing right next to you. Harry, thank you for loving my boy. Thank you for putting up with him and reigning him in when none of us could. You are so special, Haz. My son is very lucky to have you,” my mum says, standing at the front of the room while everyone listens and beams at us. She lifts her glass of champagne to Harry, smiling and getting teary-eyed. Without even missing a beat, he too lifts his glass.

    “I'm the lucky one,” he says, pulling me tight against his side and kissing my cheek. A chorus of “awww” echoes through the space. 

    “Case and point, love. Anyways, I'm getting emotional. I promised Lottie I wouldn't cry. So...thank you, everyone, for being here to celebrate Lou’s birthday. Happy birthday, baby. And happy holidays to everyone. May the new year bring you health and happiness,” my mum finishes. Everyone claps and my mum hurries back to join my sisters.

    “That was beautiful,” I say quietly to Harry. I hear him chuckle, pressing his lips to my ear.

    “Imagine the speech she'll have when we get married,” he says. I can hear the smile in his voice as my cheeks heat up. The thought of marrying this amazing man...well it makes everything worth it. The sneaking around. The secrets and lies. The stress. It's all worth it if I get to have him in my life.

  
  


**Zayn’s P.O.V.**

    After Jay’s speech, I downed the rest of my drink before going back to the small bar for another.

    “Something with rum, please,” I order. The bartender nods and sets about making my drink. “I wouldn't be opposed to a heavy pour.”

    The bartender gives me a look. There's something in his eyes. Sadness maybe? Nope...definitely pity. 

    He finishes the drink and sets it on a napkin for me. I pull out my wallet and take out a couple bills.

    “On the house,” the bartender says. I look back up. He's smiling but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

    “Thanks. I uh...I'm Zayn,” I say, introducing myself. The bartender gives me a real smile this time.

    “It's not problem. And I know who you are,” he chuckles. He takes out another glass and throws a bunch of things in before shaking it and pouring out a mixed shot. He slide sit over to me. “I'm Clay.”

    I nod, taking the shot, and pound it. It's surprisingly good.

    “Nice to meet you. Thanks. For the drinks. Uhm...see you later,” I mumble.  _ Why do I have to be so goddamn awkward? _

    “Yeah,” Clay says simply. I fight the urge to look back up at him before I scurry away. It's only when I'm back at my table, sitting with my sister, Doniya, that I risk looking back at the bar. Clay is looking directly at me, a small smile curled over his lips. 

    “What's that about?” Doniya asks. I shake my head and take a long sip of my drink. The alcohol washes down my throat smoothly.

    “Nothin’,” I lie. Doniya definitely doesn't buy it but she doesn't push me either. She'd started getting nosy a couple months ago, just as we were starting the tour. All of a sudden, she was asking me all sorts of questions and was calling me every single day. She insisted that she knew something was wrong. I kept putting her off. I couldn't give her the satisfaction of being right.

  
  


_ “Zayn. I know you're lying. You never come round anymore. You never call. You don't even text. Mum and Baba are worried. We all are. Even Waliyha and Safaa can tell something is off. We're worried,” Doniya said. I rolled my eyes and considered hanging up on her. But I knew she'd just call me back anyways.  _

_     “Well it's wasted worry. Everything is fine. ‘S all good,” I lied. Once upon a time, I felt bad about lying to Doniya. I felt bad about lying to anyone. But particularly my family. But this was just something I didn't want to deal with. _

_     “I know you're lying. I don't know why you're lying to me. But I know you're lying. I love you, Zayn. But none of us can help if you aren't honest,” Doniya said. It would've been easier if her voice was angry or accusing. But it wasn't. She just sounded sad. _

_     “Don't know what to tell ya,” I spat. I heard my sister sigh. _

_     “Zayn...are you eating?” she asked. My skin prickled as if felt like someone dumped ice water over me. _

_     “What the fuck does that mean? Of course I'm eating,” I growled. Silence. It was a few moments before Doniya spoke. _

_     “Are you eating at every meal?” she asked.  _

_     “I don't fucking need this,” I shouted into the phone before stabbing the end button with my thumb. I sighed, throwing my phone onto the couch. _

    “You're a really bad liar, Z,” she says, getting up and leaving me to my thoughts.  _ Such an asshole. _

  
  


**Niall’s P.O.V.**

    “Nialler, is that necessary?” Liam asks, eyeing the sandwich I’m busy assembling. I look up at him and then back at my masterpiece.

    “What's wrong with it?” I ask. Truly, it's a sight to behold. Liam had ordered a ton of the bread I like from this bakery right off Time Square. The hotel had catered everything else. A complete turkey dinner with all the fixings, various desserts, and something called bon bons. I'm fairly certain they're a dessert as well. But Liam’s mum said their French so who really knows.

    “I honestly don't know how you eat so much,” Liam chuckles. I want to abandon the sandwich and curl into his side. I've been feeling really clingy lately. But we're not out to anyone but our families and the boys. And Paddy and Paul. But that's it.

    “Leave me and my sandwich alone,” I pout. I take a couple toothpicks and shove them through.

    “If you need toothpicks to keep it together, you put too much stuff inside,” Liam laughs, poking my side.

    “Not true. That sandwich you like at that little cafe in Dublin is served with toothpicks in it,” I remind him.

    “Yes...and I pick out half the meat and give it to you,” he laughs. He's got a point. Rather than continue the banter, I ignore him and start trying to maneuver the sandwich into my mouth. I'll admit, I may have put too much in it. But now I'm committed. I can't let Li win this. With a little more maneuvering and a crack of my jaw, I manage to get a bite off. Then I feel Liam lean in closer. “If you were lookin’ for something to stuff in your mouth, I could've helped.”

    Sputtering, I nearly choke on the sandwich. I spit the bite out into a napkin, my eyes watering as I keep coughing. 

    “Excuse you,” I hiss. Liam laughs, trying to contain himself. 

    “You alright, Nialler?” Harry's sister, Gemma, asks, looking at me funny.

    “Oh yeah. He's fine. Just overestimated how much he could swallow,” Liam says, his eyes never leaving mine.

    “Aww. Ni, your eyes are even tearing up. One go these days, you're really going to choke,” she says, shaking her head at me. I grumble and glare at the sandwich. When Gemma shuffles away, Liam is right back at my ear.

    “If only she knew how pretty you look choking on my cock. Tears dripping down your pretty face. Looking up at me through your eyelashes. Fucking beautiful,” he whispers so only I can hear.  _ Jesus fucking Christ _ .

    “Get up and go to the bathroom down the hall. The farthest one. Now,” I instruct. Liam leans away and picks up a candy cane from the center of the table.

    “And if I don't?” he asks. He opens the candy cane and slips it into his mouth. Slowly.  _ Sure. Be a tease. Two can play this game. _

    “Then I guess you won't get to see how pretty I look choking on your cock. Or the look in my eyes when I moan your name as I cum deep inside your ass. Hope you have a good imagination,” I say dismissively. I've never seen Liam move so quickly.

  
  


**Louis’s P.O.V.**

    The night passed by quickly and before I knew it, it was time to be going. One of the nice things about having this party where we did is that none of us have to clean up. 

    “I'm exhausted,” Niall groans. I watch as he leans back in his chair, sighing. Beside him, Liam shifts uncomfortably. Ever since he and Niall returned from the bathroom, it seems like he can't sit still. I chuckle to myself, trying not to imagine the kind of trouble they caused.

    “Well then let's go,” the fidgety boy whines. Niall look at him sideways, a smug smile on his face.

    “Aww why? You getting antsy, Li?” Niall asks.  _ Oh jeeez. _

    “Fuck you. Let's go,” Liam whines. The four of us sit there, chilling out for a few minutes before I decide to ask about our fifth companion.

    “Where's Zayn?” I ask. We each look around the function room. But he's nowhere to be seen.

    “I haven't seen him since the last time he got up to get a drink,” Harry says. Everyone seems to brush it off but it doesn't sit well with me.  _ It's not out of the ordinary for Zayn to go off on his own. But he at least usually says “bye". _

    “I'm sure he'll turn up,” Niall says. I know he's right. But I still don't like it. I reach out and grab Harry's hand.

    “You ready to go, love?” I yawn. Harry nods before also yawning. I chuckle and lean over to kiss his cheek.

    “It was nice to go do something with all our families and friends - people we trust - and be able to be ourselves,” Harry says, smiling at me.

    “I can't wait to have that,” Niall whispers, looking sideways at his boyfriend. I can only imagine how badly Liam is itching to kiss Niall. But there are still half a dozen of our friends milling about.

    “You'll get there,” I say reassuringly. We sit there a few minutes more before Harry starts to whine about being tired. I roll my eyes and get up, pulling him with me. We take the time to say goodbye to everyone before finally getting into the car and heading for our hotel.

  
  


    “You're quiet,” Harry says from the passenger seat. I haven't said anything since we got in the car. Truthfully, I've been trying to figure out how to break it to Harry that I fucked up my sobriety. Even though it was only one sip, I'm starting over. I'm not letting this be a “slip up” or an “accident”. I'm starting over from day one. Which is incredibly frustrating but I'm committed to this.

    Taking a quick peek at Harry, I see he's sitting there, waiting patiently for me to speak.

    “There's actually something I want to talk to you about,” I tell him. I decide telling him now, in the car, is a good option because then I have an excuse not to look him in the eyes when I tell him I've failed.

    “Alright,” Harry says simply. He waits. An uncomfortable silence settles over the cramped space.

    “I broke my sobriety,” I admit. I feel a piece of me crumble. Saying the words out loud is easier than unexpected but more horrifying to hear.

    “Oh,” Harry breathes. He doesn't say anything else and I can only imagine the sadness on his eyes. I've failed him. I broke my promise.

    “I'm sorry, Harry. I should've been more careful. I wasn't thinking,” I say, my voice starting to shake.  _ He's going to leave. He said it was him or the alcohol. _

    “How much did you drink? And when?” he asks. His voice is surprisingly calm and even.

    “Tonight. Zayn got me a drink and I immediately just took it without thinking. I don't know what it was but there was definitely tequila in it. I took a sip and gave it back. I honestly didn't want it, Haz. All I could think about was you. I did think about it. I thought about drinking the rest of it. And I even went for a second sip. But all I could think about was you and then I didn't want it. I'm so sorry,” I explain, tears threatening to choke my words. Harry doesn't say anything at first. He just takes a deep breath and let's it out slowly. When he finally speaks, he's so quiet that I almost miss it.

    “I'm so proud of you,” he whispers. And just like that, it feels like the world has stopped spinning. 

    “What? Harry I just told you I had a drink. Did you hear me right? I drank alcohol,” I reiterate. Harry chuckles softly and pulls my right hand off the steering wheel. I flex my fingers before slipping them between Harry's.

    “I know. I was listening. Since I was listening, I also heard the part where you said Zayn gave you the drink. And that you thought about drinking the rest. But you  _ chose _ not to. You had the choice to finish the drink. And you chose me instead. You also chose to tell me. If you hadn't, I wouldn't have ever known. You could've gotten away with it. But you chose to be the man I fell in love with and own up to it. You chose to accept what that meant so you could be honest with me. That's the man I love. So I am proud of you,” Harry says, his voice stronger and full of conviction. I will forever be in awe of this man. Forever.   
  
  


 

    “Harry, I thought we moved past this,” I whine as I watch the curly haired lad pacing in our hotel room. It's Christmas morning and Harry's already been awake for three hours. I swear, he's spent most of that time pacing.

    “I know. But I'm still so angry. How could he do that to you?! And where the fuck is he? Doniya has called me twice,” Harry spits. Despite a very long conversation about the alcohol and Zayn’s involvement, Harry is still mad. I attempted to reason with him, arguing that Zayn probably just figured I could have a single drink because it was my birthday. And that it would be fine because I was surrounded by people so it's like I was supervised. I made the argument, though it's pretty weak now that I really think about it. Regardless, I made the argument and Harry wasn’t having it.

    “I don't know where he is, babe. But you know what? It's none of our business. Zayn is a big boy. He can take care of himself,” I say, ignoring the small pit of worry taking up space in my stomach.

    “I know. But I'm still angry,” Harry growls. On his hundredth pass by my seat on the couch, I reach out and grab his wrist. I pull him down onto the couch with me and I snuggle into his side.

    “I know you're angry. And I love you for being angry. But it's done. It was a shitty thing. And now we have to move on. Dwelling on it will drive you crazy,” I point out. Harry has this awful habit of perseverating on things to a ridiculous extent.

    “Fine,” Harry grumbles. I don't really believe that this is the last of it but I'll pretend it is. I grab Harry's hand in mine and lift it to my mouth. My lips brush over his knuckles, eliciting a small sigh from the younger lad. Sitting back, I look out the window to the city streets below. I'd really hoped it would snow for Harry. But there's no snow to be seen and nothing in the forecast.

    “We're gonna have to come back for Christmas next year too,” I sigh, still looking outside. Harry sniffles around and moves behind me, wrapping his long arms around my middle.

    “Why? Not that I don't love being here. I do. But why specifically next year?” Harry asks. He drops his mouth to my shoulder and stays there, waiting for my answer. I can't help but giggle.

    “Because I promised you a proper New York City Christmas. And this is pathetic. There's no snow. So we're coming back next year,” I huff. Now it's Harry's turn to giggle. He hugs me tightly to his chest. My hands smooth over his arms and I lean back into his embrace.

    “What if it doesn't snow next year either?” Harry asks. I can hear the playfulness in his words and it makes me smile - happy that he's pulled away from being angry at Zayn.

    “Well then we'll come back the year after that. I made you a promise, Haz. I said a New York Christmas. We'll keep coming back until it happens. A promise is a promise and I never go back on my promises,” I say softly. I turn around in Harry's arms to look at him. He's smiling but there's something off about it.

    “I know you keep your promises. I know, Lou.” Harry's words settle over me and I realize that we're no longer talking about Christmas.

  
  
  


    “Lottie Tomlinson, so help me! It may be Christmas but I will ground you until next summer!” my mum threatens. Harry and I walk into the large hotel room and cringe. My sisters are running rampant all over and my mum looks like she's about to kill each of them.

    “Louis!” Daisy and Phoebe chorus. I place our bags of gifts down and drop to my knees just as the twins plow into me. I wrap my arms around them and gesture for Harry to sneak up on them. Harry gets low and creeps up behind them and surprises them by tickling their sides.

    “Harry!” they giggle. The girls twist around and tackle him to the ground. 

    “Ah perfect. You're on your own, love,” I chuckle, leaving Harry to fend for himself. I round the corner and see my mum fussing around the kitchen. “A kitchen? I didn't know the room had a kitchen. It wasn't supposed to. Harry and I ordered Christmas dinner for everyone so you didn't have to cook.”

    My mum looks up from the icing she's whipping, the messy bun on her head flopping to one side.

    “Yes and that was just ridiculous, Louis. Honestly. I'm your mum and I get to have everyone over. Of course I'm cooking,” she says, shooting me a look. I hold up my hands in mock surrender and go to join her at the island.

    “Fine, fine. You win,” I chuckle.

    “You know, this is really more of an apartment. It's quite ridiculous,” she says, eyeing me. I open my mouth to change the subject but she cuts me off, “Do I want to know how much money the two of you have spent in the last two days?”

    I cringe again. I knew this would come up. Harry and I agreed we would not tell our families how much it cost to fly them here, to have the party yesterday, to have the get-together today, or for everyone's lodging and transportation. Honestly, it was quite a bit. But for our families to be together for the holiday...well it was definitely worth it.

    “No. You don't. And don't bother asking because I'm not telling you. Now,” I say, rubbing my palms together. “What can I help with?”

    “Absolutely nothing. Do not touch a thing and get out of kitchen,” my mum says, waving a spatula at me.

    “Oh come now. Let me help. It's Christmas,” I laugh, reaching for some chocolate chips. With lightning speed, my mum's hand flies out and smacks mine away. I cradle my hand to my chest, “Rude.”

    “What's rude is you coming into my kitchen and trying to ruin what I've cooked. I've been victimized by your cooking skills, love. There's a reason why I send recipes to Harry and not you,” my mum laughs.

    “Beside...I don't see any chicken or Parma ham, Lou,” Harry chuckles as he walks into the kitchen. My mum has to pause her whisking so she can double over and laugh.

    “Oh well I have some whisking you can do, love. Harry, be a dear and give him a crash course, yeah?” my mum says, wiping her eyes.

    “Oh sod off. The pair of ya are awful. I'm going back to the girls. At least they appreciate my cooking efforts,” I say, sticking my tongue out. From the next room over, I hear all four of my sister's chime together.

    “No, we don't!”   
  


 

    “Jay, this is just fantastic. It really is,” Anne compliments, pointing at her plate with her fork.

    “Oh thank you. The raspberry and chocolate thing - I don't even really know what you'd call it - has always been Lou’s favourite ever since he was little. He tried to help me bake a cake and I turned around for maybe half a second to grab butter and the next thing I know, he's dumping this huge bowl of pureed raspberries into the batter. They'd been on the counter for baby food or something. I don't quite recall. But there he goes with this giant bowl of the stuff. And the cake mix was my last one. So we just started adding other things. And this is what you get,” my mum chuckles.

    “Aw so you could cook at one time. What happened?” Gemma laughs from across the table.

    “What is this? Everyone gangs up on Louis day? Honestly,” I huff, folding my arms across my chest.

    “Of course not. Besides, if it's any condolence to you, I happen to love those chocolate peanut butter cookies you always send me,” Robin, Anne's boyfriend, says. I really appreciate this man. But, ya know, I can't win.

    “What chocolate peanut butter cookies?” Anne asks, turning to us. Robin glances at me, confused.  _ Uh oh. _

    “Uhm. Every few months, Lou sends me a box of cookies. They're very good. I'll give you one next time,” Robin says. Anne and Harry exchange glances.

    “Are they square?” Anne asks.  _ Oh shit. You've been caught.  _

    “As a matter of fact, they are. Have you been sneaking my cookies?” Robin chuckles, attempting to break the awkwardness that's settled over the table. But as soon as his words come out, I'm flinching away from the myriad of things being thrown at me.

    “You little shit!” Anne laughs while Harry opts for, “You  _ stole _ my cookies?! You thief!”

    “Hey now. It's not nice to throw things,” I chastise. Harry laughs and pulls me into his side.

    “You're so lucky I love you, you little cheat,” Harry says against my temple. His lips press down, making me smile.

    “I suppose I should have known,” Robin shakes his head. The table falls back into regular conversation but I'm consumed by Harry. Sitting against his side, I'm so relaxed. Everything is perfect.

  
  
  


    “If you don't start moving, I'm going to lose it,” Harry practically growls at me. I'm literally balls deep inside him and I'm just staying there - completely still. And for the sole purpose of getting Harry worked up.

    “Patience, love,” I say, running my hands down his back and over his ass. It's really a lovely view: Harry on his front, bum up, his back sloping down to the mattress, his face buried in the sheets. The angry, red handprint just below his right hip. The matching mark on the left side but lower. Absolutely beautiful.

    “I had patience at the studio. I had patience at dinner. I had patience at the fucking grocery store where you led me around in circles looking for cookies that don't exist. Now? I have no patience. Now grab my hair and fu-” I cut him, pulling out and slamming back inside. I don't give him time to adjust. I pull my hips back and snap them forward again. And again. And again.

    “I don't know where you got the idea that you're in charge right now. So let me remind you that you're not,” I say through gritted teeth. Without warning, I pull completely out of him and land a hard slap to his bum. Harry yelps and then moans as I push back into his tight heat.

    “Could have fooled me,” Harry taunts. I grab a handful of his curls and pull his head back and to the side. I bite down on the exposed skin of his neck. Harry howls in pain but I'm not worried about hurting him. The way Harry pushes his bum back to meet my thrusts tells me the pain is pushing him closer. Just as it always does, the roughness is driving him towards the edge.

    Harry starts to pant harder, whines more, and I know he's nearly there. I sink completely into him and then still. Harry swears and reaches around to smack me. I capture his arms and push then under his chest, holding his wrists down with my arms wrapped around him. My chest pushes down on Harry's back. Very slowly, I lift my hips up and then settle back down. I repeat this, pushing in out incredibly slowly. It's meant to be a punishment. To drive him crazy. Bring Harry right to the edge and then deny him. But he doesn't yell. He doesn't threaten me. He just  _ moans.  _ Deep and yet breathy. He says my name, barely above a whisper.

    “Baby,” I say, pushing my face into his shoulder. I feel Harry shift under me, turning his head to look back.

    “Let me turn over?” he asks. I don't say anything. I just pull out and sit back. Harry maneuvers onto his back and then grabs my arms, pulling me forward. I lean over him and drop down to kiss him. Harry's arms curl around my neck, holding me close. I should know by now that when I try to throw him off - when I switch from rough to gentle without warning him - that this is always where it will lead. Then again, maybe that's why I do it.

    I gently position myself at his entrance and push inside, sighing as I go. There's something comforting about it. Of slipping into him. Being this close. It's comforting and electrifying at the same time.

    I find a steady pace and soon we're falling into oblivion together. Harry's moans harmonize with mine and my head swims at the pleasure. With a final thrust, I groan and then carefully pull out.

    “I love you, Harry Edward Styles,” I say. For seemingly no reason at all, tears spring to my eyes. I have no reason to get emotional. I've told him I love him hundreds of times before. Nevertheless, there they are: the tears threatening to spill over my eyelashes. I press my forehead to his, breathing him in. Harry's breath catches and then his voice comes out light and breathy.

  
    “Marry me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliff hanger. I know. I'm sorry. Except not really.
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated!
> 
> Love,  
> Aria ♡


	22. Every Avenue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry this chapter is short. But it made the most sense to stop where I did. But I'm already writing the next section and I hope to have it up soon.
> 
> There is a time jump in here. But don't worry. You guys won't be missing all that time. I'm sure you all know my love of flashbacks by now :)
> 
> Also, I messed up with Lux's age. Sorry. For the purposes of this story, let's say that where it picks up in April 2014, Lux is three. She'll turn four in September. Sorry for the confusion.
> 
> So yeah that's it. Hope you enjoy the chapter!

**Chapter 22: Every Avenue**

 

**1 year and 4 months later…**

**April 2014**

 

    I sit by the window and watch as a large plane starts down a runway, preparing for take off. My knee is bouncing nervously and despite my best efforts to calm down, my heart is racing.

    “Lou, you've really got to relax,” Liam says. He's sitting next to me and has been trying to ease my anxiety with tea and small talk for the last half hour.

    “I can't. I haven't seen him since he moved out. It's been weeks,” I whine. Liam looks up from his phone and gives me a sad look.

    “But that's not his fault. Nor yours. Management sucks. They're all a bunch of assholes and at this point, there's nothing to be done. We just have to shut up and smile and power through the last of our contract. We're almost done,” Liam says. It's crazy to think about our lives and how it's all changed. Three years I've been with these boys. Three years, three albums, two tours, (two and a half tours if you're counting the X Factor). And now we're gearing up for our third major tour as a band. The last album release was stressful to say the least. _Midnight Memories_ is a giant mess of emotions and bullshit. But by far, the most difficult song to perform is “Strong”. I knew when I wrote it that I was setting myself up for disaster. But with everything that happened, I felt like I needed to write it. I needed to write _that_ song. The song that would make Harry stop in his tracks and understand that _he_ makes me strong. Harry's response of writing “Happily" told me all I needed to know. But now that seems like a lifetime ago.

    “I haven't seen him since all this dating bullshit though. I don't know where that leaves it,” I tell him. Liam raises his eyebrow at me.

    “I think you should be more worried about the pending proposal, yeah? Have you given him an answer yet?” Liam asks. I sigh, letting my head fall back.

    “No, Liam. I haven't given him an answer,” I admit. Liam chuckled and shakes his head.

    “How many times has he asked you now?” he questions before returning to his phone.

    “Twenty-eight,” I answer. Liam suddenly whips his head to the side to stare at me, his jaw dropping.

    “Excuse me? I must have cotton in my ears. I could have sworn you just said that Harry Styles, your _boyfriend_ , has asked you to marry him twenty-eight times in the last year,” Liam says, clearly baffled. I take a long sip of my tea.

    “Nope. You heard right. Twenty-eight times. Twenty-eight proposals and six songs later, we've got a kick ass album that nearly breaks my heart every time I hear it. Oh and I'm still the bad guy,” practically growl. Liam gives me a sympathetic look but he doesn't argue with me.

    “Maybe grow up and give him an answer then, yeah?” Liam suggests. It sounds like a suggestion but I know that's not really what it is. He's telling me.

    “Yeah,” I agree, staring out the window again. The problem isn't deciding if I want to. I want nothing more than to marry him. But what I want isn't what's most important. Harry is the most important. And Harry's willingness to put his career on the back burner for our relationship is a problem. At least that's what Simon tells me. I know he's not wrong. I've always been the problem.

  


    “Pizza will be here shortly, I've got four movies plus the first season of Friends, and Paddy is grabbing us beer. Anything else?” Niall asks. No one can think of anything else so we all settle in to begin the weekly boys’ night.

    “Really? Frozen?” Lou asks, closing the bus door behind her. She hands Lux off to Harry and takes a seat next to Zayn.

    “What's wrong with Frozen?” Harry whines. He's currently seated next to me and has his body curled around me. Some things will never change.

    “Nothing. If you're a child,” Lou teases.

    “Let's be real. We're children,” Niall laughs. As much as I'd like to say we've all grown up quite a bit in the last three years, the truth is we are still children sometimes. Especially if anyone leaves me and Zayn alone for too long. Chaos ensues.

    “Don't I know it? I spend half my time wrangling you all into my chair. You're all lucky that Lux loves you. It's really your only saving grace,” Lou says, ruffling Zayn’s hair. He makes a show of batting her hands away but the smile that's plastered to his face says just how much he adores Lou.

    “Well if you can handle us _children_ , you're more than welcome to join us,” I joke. Zayn leans over and grabs Lux out of Harry's lap, much to the curly one's dismay. I watch as Zayn cradles the little girl to his chest and drops a soft kiss into her hair.

    “Maybe for a few minutes,” Lou smiles. She leans over onto Zayn’s shoulder and smiles as he makes silly faces at her daughter. It's quite the sight and it makes me a little sad for Zayn.

    Nothing since last Christmas has gone well for Zayn. That guy he'd met at the party, Clay, ended up being a real scumbag. Zayn had let him in. He trusted Clay. Clay didn't judge him or exploit his fame. He never asked for money or connections. After about a week, Zayn decided he was ready to sleep with Clay. That was the end of it. They slept together once and then Clay left. Never returned any of Zayn’s texts or calls again and deleted him off all social media. So all Clay cared about was fucking Zayn and then fucking him over. It broke Zayn.

    Since then, it seems my friend has been on a downward spiral. Despite management pushing Zayn to date, he definitely wasn't happy. And then Perrie became a thing.

 

    About an hour later, Frozen ends and I look over to see Lou, Zayn, and Lux all asleep. At some point, Zayn had moved his arm to around Lou's shoulders. The pretty girl is now cuddled into Zayn’s chest with her legs draped over his. Lux is asleep in Lou's lap, also leaning against Zayn. I can't resist the way my eyebrows shoot up.

    “You think?” Niall asks, nudging me with his arm and shrugging towards the precarious scene. Zayn is dating Perrie. Lou is married. But I suppose stranger things have happened.

    “Haven't a clue. But that couldn't possibly end well,” I sigh. Niall agrees and shakes his head before getting up, muttering something about a snack before bed.

    “Can we go to bed?” Harry asks. I look over at him. He looks exhausted. I briefly wonder if he's gotten as little sleep as I have.

    “Yeah. Of course,” I say. Harry stands, grabs my hand, and pulls me with him towards the bunks. There honestly shouldn't be enough room for two people to sleep in a single bunk comfortably. Yet somehow, we've always made it work before.

    Harry and I take our time getting ready for bed. We brush our teeth in silence and I find my anxiety rising. We haven't slept together in months. Management set me up with a “girlfriend”. Her name is Eleanor and she's sweet. It's easy to be myself with her. She doesn't push me for details and is fine if I don't want to hold her hand every moment that we're in public. When it came time to let paps get shots of us kissing...well it was easier than I expected. Easier than it should have been.

    “We don't have to sleep together,” Harry says, finally breaking the silence. I look up at him, momentarily pausing my fight with the zipper of my sweatshirt.

    “What?” I ask. Harry just shrugs his shoulders and climbs into his bunk.

    “We don't need to sleep together. It's been a long time. Besides, we've both grown and these bunks haven't,” Harry says with a fake laugh. I feel my heart clench at his words. This pit of despair forms in my stomach.

    “Oh. Yeah okay. Good point,” I whisper. I give up on my sweatshirt and climb into my own bunk. I don't look back to see if Harry is watching. I just close the little curtain and curl up on my side. This is going to be a long fucking tour.

  


    “Z, can you help me move a couple boxes?” Lou asks. She looks frazzled. Like maybe she's got a little too much going on. We've only got an hour until lights and she hasn't started on anyone's hair.

    “Yeah definitely,” Zayn smiles. He immediately gets up from the couch to join her. Zayn has always been the helpful one. He's definitely got the most patience out of all of us.

    “What do you guys want to do in the US this time around?” Liam asks. He's doing pull ups on an apparatus he's put up in the doorway. I watch as his muscles work to complete the exercises and I have to admit, it's a pleasing sight. Niall definitely catches me looking and throws a piece of balled up paper at me.

    “I want time at the beach when we hit California,” I say. Everyone groans.

    “Tommo you always say the beach. Don't you want to try something new? You can't go to the beach all you want when you go home. Your house is practically within walking distance,” Liam points out. _My house._ The house - no, the home - I'm supposed to share with Harry has been empty for over a year. We haven't lived there at the same time since before starting the last tour. So I got a new house. It's actually a flat. But it's mine. No one other than Harry, Lottie, and select people on the team know about it though.

    “I don't really care what we do,” I finally say. Liam drops down from the pull up bar and looks at me, sadness rolling off him in waves. I feel it from Niall too. They're looking at me like they want to say something but they don't. Harry doesn't say anything either. So we settle on uncomfortable silence.

 

    It would be one thing if I could just do my job and have my fake relationship and just pretend all is good. But that's not how it goes. No. The fans, our lovely fans, don't miss a thing. We truly have the best fans. But they're unbelievably perceptive. One night, when I'm feeling particularly bitter, I decide it's a fantastic idea to sit in my hotel room and scroll through social media. With my phone in one hand and a cold beer in the other, I read endless tweets about Larry Stylinson.

 _@MiaLovesNiall: Idk what the issue is but_ _@Harry_Styles and @Louis_Tomlinson need to get their act together. You can't fool us. #LarryAF_

_@1D_4eva: What is this Eleanor crap? She's pretty. She seems sweet. But she's not @Harry_Styles. #LarryStylinson_

_@LarryStylinsonIsReal: What even is this nonsense? Modest! can suck it. #Larry4Ever_

    The rest is more of the same. Nothing really negative aimed at us. Or even Eleanor. But definitely aimed at management.

    I sigh and toss my phone down onto the seat next to me just as a knock sounds at my door. Grumbling, I get up. I open the door to find a very messy looking Harry Styles.

    “Haz. What's wrong? You look a bit out of sorts,” I point out. Harry glares at me through the curls that have fallen in his face. Even appearing angry, the boy is gorgeous.

    “I'm drunk, I'm angry, and I'm horny as fuck. Fix it,” Harry demands a little too loudly. Hissing at him to shut up, I grab the front of his shirt and pull him into my room.

    “You're the loudest drunk on the face of the planet. And since when do you get drunk like this on tours?” I chuckle, leaving him by the door. I walk back to the couch and flop down.

    “Since my boyfriend has kept me at the end of a very long rope for the better part of a year ever since I started asking him to marry me. You see, it's quite annoying. I see his stupid face everywhere. All his shit is still in our house even though he doesn't live there. The house we bought, mind you. Yeah, that's ridiculous isn't it? You see, we bought a house. We went on tour, made stupid amounts of money, and then we bought a house. And then this crazy thing happened...we fell in love! We fell in love and started this amazing and terrifying relationship. We conquered so much together. And then! I got stupid. I decided it was a brilliant idea to ask that boy to marry me. Cause here, I thought we were on the same page. Well. Low and behold we weren't on the same page. We weren't even in the same damn book!” Harry practically screams at me. _Well here it is. The break up._

    “I'm sorry, Harry,” I say honestly. I am sorry. I'm not sure what for in this particular moment. Maybe all of it. But I know I am sorry.

    Harry marches right up to me and straddles my lap.

    “What are you doing?” I ask, grabbing onto his hip with my free hand so he doesn't fall. Harry leans back slightly and rips his jumper off over his head, causing his curls to become even more unruly.

    “What the fuck does it look like I'm doing? I'm taking my clothes off. Jesus. Did you get even more stupid since the last time I saw you?” Harry spits. The venom in his voice makes me flinch. This is a new side of Harry I've become relatively familiar with in the last year. Angry. Angry Harry is not a force you want to be faced with. The cute cherub suddenly turns into this demon that puts your worst nightmares to shame.

    “Yes, I see that. Why are you taking your clothes off here? In my room? And on my lap, for that matter?”

    “You really are a moron, aren't you. Finish your beer and fuck me, Tomlinson.”

    I finish my beer. Not because Harry says to but because it's there. And, well, dealing with Harry Styles requires copious amounts of alcohol.

    As soon as I pull the empty bottle away from my mouth, Harry grabs it and tosses it aside and launches himself at me.

    “Easy, Haz. I'm not fucking you,” I say, deflecting his attack. The look of hurt that flashes through Harry's eyes makes my gut twist. But any sympathy I had is quickly squashed as Harry's hand makes contact with the side of my face. The crack of his palm against the skin of my cheek echoes in the small space. It's not a particularly hard smack. But it's unexpected and sends my head whipping to the side anyways.

    Taking a slow breath, I turn back to look at him. The fire in my boyfriend's eyes is indescribable.

    “What...the fuck...is wrong with you?”

    Harry sits up straighter in my lap, making sure to brush against me in all the right places.

    “What's wrong? _You_ are what's wrong. _You_ are the problem, you jackass. A whole fucking year this bullshit has been going on. I'm ready for it to be over. Either fuck me and make up or fuck me and break up,” Harry orders, crossing his tattooed arms over his tattooed chest.

    “Or you can get off of me, pick up your shirt, and go back to your room to sleep off the obscene amount of alcohol you've obviously ingested,” I counter. Harry's eyes narrow.

    “Or...I can go visit Zayn,” he says simply. I can't help but raise an eyebrow at him.

    “What's so special about that?” I ask. Harry waits only a moment, staring me down, before scrambling off my lap. He stalks off towards the door and doesn't pause on his way out, slamming the door behind him. The curly haired tornado is still shirtless.

    With my head still spinning, I follow him out into the hallway and watch as he stands in front of Zayn’s door, waiting very impatiently. He catches me watching him so he flips me his middle finger. I'm about to retreat back into the dark depths of my room when Zayn opens his door. The poor guy doesn't even have a moment to react before Harry attacks.

    Harry reaches out and grabs Zayn by the back of his neck and drags him forward into a kiss. _Why does Harry have to act like such a child?_

    I shake my head, cross my arms, and lean against the doorframe, waiting for the ridiculous scene to end. I can picture it now: Zayn’s brain catches up with Harry's mouth, Zayn (gently) pushes Harry off, and then Harry will cry. He'll realize how out of control he's acting, Zayn will swear it's not a big deal, and then we'll all pretend it didn't happen.

    Except that's not what happens. Not even close.

    Zayn’s arms immediately wrap around Harry's neck, his body moulding to Harry's taller frame with ease. Harry's arms circle Zayn’s waist and hold him tight. Zayn tilts his head and opens his mouth, inviting Harry's tongue. Harry takes the opportunity and dives in. Harry's hands grip Zayn's hips in a way I know will leave bruises. I know because I've been there.

    Harry grabs Zayn’s arms from around his neck and pins his wrists to the wall about his head. Harry uses his body to trap Zayn. Then, Harry rolls his hips forward, grinding into Zayn's pelvis. Zayn moans. Zayn _moans_ into Harry's mouth and I watch as he pitches his hips forward, searching for more friction.

    I can't watch anymore. I slip back into my room and the door slams for the second time in a matter of minutes.

    There's no more sound from the hallway and I wonder if they've come to their senses. Then, another door slams shut. And Harry's moans tell another story.

  


    The next day is awful. Awful doesn't even really cover it. Zayn won't look me in the eye, Harry is staring me down like he's trying to catch a glimpse of my soul, and everyone else is walking on eggshells.

    I know for a fact that Liam and Niall heard everything that happened last night. While I decided to get shit faced and listen to angry music with earbuds and the volume cranked all the way up, Liam and Niall were likely woken up by Harry's porn star demands of “more” and “ride that cock". For being so good with song lyrics, the man isn't that creative with his dirty talk when he's in charge. Never has been.

    “Alright, lads. We're packing up this venue and then starting the next drive. You're all on bus one and assuming you brought everything down, you guys are all set to go,” Paul says, his eyes flicking between the five of us. Paul is our tour manager and a pretty decent guy. Between him, Paddy, Cole, and Max, we've got a good team supporting us.

    “You gonna join us for next boys night?” Niall asks. Paul chuckles and shakes his head.

    “I see enough of you people during the day. I don't need more,” he laughs. Then he turns and leaves us standing in the hotel lobby.

    “I think we need to have another band meeting,” Zayn says quietly. I can feel the anger bubble up inside my chest.

    “I don't think we do. Maybe we can all just agree to keep it in our pants while on the bus though,” I spit. I grab my backpack and stalk off towards the buses. But it doesn't take long for Liam to catch up.

    “Don't hit me. Just wanted to check up on you,” he says, keeping a safe distance from me. I laugh and roll my eyes.

    “Oh I'm just great. I got to listen to my boyfriend fuck my best friend last. It was great. Everything is just great,” I growl. We reach the buses just as Lou emerges from bus two with Lux.

    “Hey, boys,” she greets. Three-year-old Lux is perched on her mum's hip and staring at me with big eyes.

    “Louuuuuu,” she coos, all smiles. I can't fight the smile. This girl always goes straight to my heart. I reach out, making grabby hands for my favourite little girl. Lux deposits her into my arms and walks away, muttering something about never needing babysitters for the rest of time.

    “I think Zayn is right. We should have a band meeting,” Liam offers quietly. I get on the bus, toss my bag onto a couch, and take Lux over to the giant beanbag in the corner.

    “If you think it's necessary, fine. But I don't have anything to say nor do I particularly care to listen. So I'll occupy myself elsewhere,” I tell him. I don't have to look at my friend to know he's frowning.

    “You're allowed to be angry. I don't blame you. But don't let it affect the band,” he says. Then he leaves me. I sigh and plop down on the beanbag, Lux sitting in my lap. She faces me and I hold onto her little hands.

    “I hate this, Lux. The love of my life is right there. He's right there. And yet he's so far away. What am I supposed to do?” I ask her. Her blonde ponytail falls to the side as she tilts her head, like she's trying to grasp my words. I chuckle and lean forward to kiss her forehead.

    “Kissies,” she giggles. She grabs my face between her hands and kisses me. It's sloppy and cute. She blows raspberries against my lips and giggles the whole time. She pulls away and snuggles my face. “Kissies, Lou.”

    “Yes. Kissies make everything better,” I laugh. She makes everything so simple. Without a care in the world, she swims around in the love of those around her. She smiles and giggles like kisses are the cure for everything. Maybe she's right.

  


    The drive to Los Angeles takes no time at all. Before we know it, we're slowly rolling to a stop and Niall is poking his head out of his bunk.

    “We're already stopping?” he asks. He jumps down from his bunk, nearly taking Zayn’s head off in the process, and jogs out to the main area  “Oi, Tommo! Didn't know you were gonna stay at home for the break!”

    My eyebrows shoot up at his words. _They can't possibly be dropping us off._ I clamber out of my bunk and join Niall. Sure enough, bus one is parked in front of Harry's house. _Our_ house.

    “I didn't know either,” I say in disbelief. Harry emerges from the bathroom and his jaw drops at the realization of where we are.

    “Management must have thought you guys needed the time,” Liam says gently. I sigh and close my eyes.

    “Fantastic,” I grumble. I retrieve my backpack from my bunk and get off the bus, not bothering to wait for Harry. I jog up the path and stop at the door to look for my keys. I dig through my bag until I finally find them. But then my stomach drops.

 

     _“You're being ridiculous. Why do our stupid fights have to end in one of us throwing our keys down?!” Harry shouted at me over the kitchen island. I looked at him and shrugged my shoulders._

_“Maybe it's a sign then, yeah? Our fights end with one of us ready to quit. Maybe that's saying something,” I returned. Harry leaned against the counter, his arms folded over his chest. He settled in for a long battle._

_“Well we're not very good at quitting, are we? Cause here we are! Still here. Still together! If we really wanted to quit, then why are we fighting? People fight because there's something to fight for. If we had nothing, we wouldn't be standing here screaming at each other!” he shouted. Harry's face had grown a deep shade of crimson long ago and the anger was hard to ignore._

_“No, we're fighting because YOU like to fight. I'm giving you my keys. This didn't require a fight. It didn't even require a conversation. Does the action not say enough?” I spat at him. Harry picked up the keys and hurled them at me._

_“Fuck you! I don't want the damn keys. They're your keys. Because you live here. With me. We live here together, dammit! It does require a fight! You're walking out on me! I'm not just gonna stand here and ignore you while you walk out. I know that's your MO but it's not mine. I'm not taking the fucking keys,” he shouted. So much shouting._

_I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. I honestly didn't know what to do. I'm the last few months, we'd been here so many times._

_“I think this is the end, Harry. We made a valiant effort. We conquered a lot and had to face a lot of bullshit. But I think this has run it's course. No one is to blame here. I just think this is the end,” I told him. I watched as his face changed from angry to sad. Undeniable sadness. And then he crumbles._

_“How can you say that? After everything?” he cried. Big, fat tears rolls down his face at an alarming rate. Harry dropped his face into his hands and gave himself up to the sobs. Heart wrenching, body wracking sobs. The sound filled the space and quickly drowned out everything else. The running dishwasher seemed to grow silent. The thumping dryer that we've been meaning to get fixed for a month seemed to smooth out. The birds outside lost their song. The kids down the street paused their basketball game. Everything just stopped. And Harry cried._

 

    “You okay?” Liam calls to me from the bus. His voice shakes me out of my memory and I realize I'm crying.

    “Yeah. Just think I lost my keys,” I shout back. Harry gets off the bus and walks towards me. He looks just as broken as I feel.

 

     _“I'm sorry, Harry,” I said. The tears didn't stop. Tears continued to streak down, creating this heartbreaking scene._

_“Stop apologizing. Just stop. Stop apologizing and start being the man I fell in love with,” Harry whined. I raked my hands through my hair._

_“I don't know what you want from me,” I whined. I could feel emotion build in my own voice. It threatened to steal my breath._

_“I just want you!” he shouted. “I don't want anything else. I just want you. I don't care about the drinking or the smoking. I don't care about the weed. I don't care about the fake relationships or the real make puts we have to have with girls. I don't care about the sneaking around and lying to people. I don't care about any of that. If you need us to be in the closet forever, fine. I don't care. Our families know. Our close friends know. That's enough. It's more than enough. YOU are enough for me. I don't need anything else!” he shouted. His green eyes had grown impossibly wide as he stared me down. Yet again, he rendered me speechless._

 

    “Here, I've got it,” Harry says, producing his keys. He slips his key into the lock, twists, and lets the door swing open. He motions for me to go first.

    “Thanks,” I whisper, giving him a small smile as I walk inside. The air is thick and heavy. That last fight. It still hangs in the air.

 

     _“You're all I need,” I said quietly. So quiet, even I could barely hear it._

_“What?” Harry asked. He stepped closer and turned his head, trying to hear better._

_“You're...you're all I need. You're...everything to me. But...you don't need me. You never have. I need you to breathe. I need you. But you don't need me. You don't need the heartache. You don't need the pain or the games. You don't need my mess. You don't need me,” I said. Harry's jaw dropped. He looked at me with such hurt in his eyes._

_“If you really loved me -" Harry started before I cut him off._

_“I can't not love you.”_

 

    “Your room...our room...is still as it was. All your stuff is there,” Harry says. He drops his keys in the bowl by the door and starts for the stairs. He pauses like he's going to say something. But he doesn't. He looks at me once and then disappears upstairs.

    It feels weird to be here. I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do. When Harry had reappeared, I'd decided to go upstairs and put my stuff away. And now I'm here, standing in one of the guest rooms, completely confused.

    Harry's stuff is in here. All his clothes. His books. His headbands and plethora of shoes. They're all here. The small bathroom off the room has his shampoo and conditioner. His toothbrush. His hair ties and more headbands.

    I leave the room, closing the door softly behind me. I walk back to my room - _our_ room. I don't want to go in there. I want to turn around and run screaming like the coward that I am. But I suck it up and go inside. Everything is exactly as it was left. Literally, not a thing has been moved. My jeans are still on the floor. His jumper is hanging over the closet door. The sheets are still rumpled and half falling off the bed. A bottle of lube is still open on the night stand. Everything is exactly the same.

 

     _“Show me,” Harry said. My pulse pounded in my ears._

_“What?” I asked. Surely is heard him wrong. Harry moved slowly, inching around the island. One agonizing step at a time._

_“Show me,” he said again. I watched as his body rounded the corner and was suddenly right there. Only a few paces away with no counter between us. Just this open space. Everything was spinning. The entire world was spinning, faster and faster. It left me falling forward. Falling right into the beautiful perfect disaster that is Harry Styles._

_Harry's voice cut through again, “Show me.”_

_I reached out and grabbed his hand. I shouldn't have. But I did._

_“This is supposed to be a break up,” I said. Harry stepped right into my space, his chest just inches from mine._

_“Then say ‘no’,” he said, challenging me. But the truth is...I can't. I knew it was a bad idea. It's a choice I won't be able to undo._

_“I can't. I can't say ‘no’,” I said. Harry's hand gripped mine as his other went up to rest on my neck. He leaned forward, his forehead connecting with mine._

_“Stop running.”_

 

    “I'm sorry this isn't cleaned up,” Harry says. I turn and see him standing awkwardly in the hallway.

    “What?” I ask. I'm at a loss for words and the stupid one word question is about the best I can come up with.

    “Your room. It's a mess. I just...well I haven't been in here much. Actually, I haven't been in here at all. I just...well I couldn't move it,” he says.

    “You haven't been in here at all?” I ask, getting stuck on that fragment. Harry shakes his head.

    “No. I...I couldn't,” he says. I go over to the closet and open it. The same clothes I'd seen in the guest room are right here. All his shoes. Are right here. I abandons the closet and go to the bathroom. His shampoo and conditioner. His headbands. _All_ of his stuff. It's right here.

    “How is...what did you do? Buy new stuff?” I ask, horrified of his answer. Harry nods silently. “You bought all new stuff. Why? It's all right here.”

    “I couldn't come back in here,” he tells me. It's then that I notice he's not actually in the room he's still standing in the hallway. “Everything in here smells like you.”

    It feels like my heart is breaking into a million little pieces. His own home. And he's left this room exactly as it was for an entire year. Over a year. Nearly a year and a half.

    “I don't...I don't know what to say,” I admit. Harry just shrugs his shoulders.

    “It's okay.  I didn't really need any of it. The only thing I needed from this room left. The rest of it doesn't matter.”

  
    His words cut right through me and then he leaves. He leaves me standing in stunned silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah! Tension and drama. Love drama. Hope you guys liked this. 
> 
> And don't ask me what I'm doing with the chapter titles. I don't even know. Hahaha. Last chapter I think was obvious. "Marry Me" by Train. This chapter is "I Can't Not Love You" by Every Avenue. Next chapter is going to be another 1D song. I don't know what I'm doing. Whatever. Hahahaha.
> 
> Kudos are appreciated and please leave comments! I LOVE hearing from you guys. You're the best!
> 
> Love,  
> Aria ♡


	23. Love You Goodbye

**Chapter 23: Love You Goodbye**

_ “This is a bad idea,” I groaned. I pulled Harry's jumper up over his head and tossed it behind me. Harry made quick work of getting the rest of our clothes off. _

_     “Don't think about it. Just do it,” Harry urged. For someone who was always concerned about every minute detail, he was acting impulsively. _

_     “I don't want you to regret this. I’m sorry...I don't want to hurt you,” I said against his mouth. Harry's hands slipped up into my hair as he kissed me. _

_     “We’re not here to apologize. Please. If this is it...if this is really the last fight we're going to have. Let's just...pretend that everything is fine. If tomorrow will be different. Just let me love you. Please,” Harry begged. It was like the words of a beautiful song. Those parting words. The acknowledgment that this is the end. That desperation for one last time… _

  
  


    The rest of the day passes by painfully slowly. Harry and I each sit in our respective rooms for hours. I can hear Harry's guitar as he strums out chords. I wonder if he’s writing or just messing around. There's probably something poetic about two halves of the same whole, sitting in separate rooms, penning ballads about their heartbreak. It's comforting though. To sit in peace and relative quiet. And just write.

    Eventually though, all good things come to an end. We have to leave our rooms. But, in true Larry Stylinson fashion, we emerge into the hallway at the same time.

    “Sorry. I can wait until you're done,” Harry says, moving back into his room.

    “No, Haz...there's no reason why we can't...just eat together,” I say, effectively stopping him in his tracks. He turns back towards me. For a moment, I have a brief glimmer of hope that he's going to come downstairs with me.

    “It’s okay. I'll just wait,” he says quietly. He doesn't spare me a second more and closes his bedroom door.

  
  


    By the time night fell, I was more than ready for bed. I had changed the sheets earlier in the day so by the time I dragged myself up to my room, I was able to just collapse.

    It still felt odd to be in here. Being in here without Harry just felt wrong. Makes it feel like the last year has been useless.

 

_ “Harry,” I moaned. I pulled my hips back slowly and then sank back into him. It was slow and sensual and undeniably emotional. _

_     “I love you,” Harry whispered, as his mouth brushed against my forehead. I picked my head up so I could look into his eyes. I felt the familiar fire building in my belly. _

_     “I'm getting close,” I warned. Harry smiled and used his fingers to twist into my hair and pull. Just the way I like it. _

_     “Let go then,” Harry urged. But I shook my head. _

_     “No. Want to cum with you,” I rasped. Something flashed through Harry's eyes but I didn't have the opportunity to decipher it. Harry's hands left my hair and instead secured themselves behind his knees, pulling his legs up to his chest. The slight change in angle dragged me closer. The little noises coming from Harry's throat told me he was close. So close to cumming untouched. _

_     I surged forward and captured his lips with mine. Not long after, Harry's walls tightened around me as he found release. The combination of Harry's orgasm, the taste of his lips, and just the feeling of him - of being this close - thrust me forward into my own euphoria. I fucked Harry through his orgasm and right through my own, spilling myself deep inside him. _

_     When I had nothing left to give, I pulled out carefully. I rolled over onto my back and pulled Harry with me. He nestled against my chest, his arm thrown over my stomach. _

_     I waited until his breaths evened to slip out from his embrace. I got dressed as quickly and as quietly as I could. But instead of leaving right away, I crouched down next to Harry's side of the bed. I gently brushed a few renegade curls away from his face. _

_     “Love you. Goodbye.” _

 

    No amount of tossing and turning helps. Frustrated, I sigh and bury my face into my pillow.  _ Oh _ . Nope. That's Harry's pillow.

    “Fuck my life,” I groan. I punch the pillow into submission and settle back in, breathing in the familiar scent.

    The rest of the night doesn't get any better.

  
  


    “There's got to be a better way of going about this than how we're doing it,” Harry mumbles, sleep sticking to his voice. I look up from my tea and see the curly haired boy dragging himself through the kitchen. He reaches for the kettle to make himself some tea but I stop him.

    “I made yours,” I tell him. I point to the mug sitting opposite me at the island.

    “Oh. Thank you,” he says, picking up the mug. He takes a sip and then looks at it quizzically. He looks back up at me, “Did you put ice in it?”

    “Yeah. You always burn your mouth because you're too impatient for it to cool off first,” I tell him. Harry smiles into his mug and takes another sip of the undoubtedly perfect temperature tea.

    “What is it that you always say about tea? ‘What can't be solved with tequila can always be soothed by tea’?” he asks, chuckling. I crack a genuine smile and nod.

    “Yep. And it's true.” Harry frowns at my words.

    “You started drinking again,” he says matter of factly. I stare into my own mug likes it holds the answers to life.  _ Not again. He's going to hate me. _

    “Yeah. So have you.”

    “Yeah.”

    The silence is so charged, it's almost painful to sit there. I have to break it.

    “Zayn is struggling. He's drinking. And smoking a lot.”

    “Liam is drinking a lot too. It's getting a little out of hand actually,” Harry adds.

    “So basically the only one of us that has his drinking in control is Niall. And he's the Irish one,” I chuckle. The irony is too good to skip over. Thankfully, Harry also finds it comical.

    “That doesn't say much for the rest of us,” he laughs. We sit there at the island together, laughter filling the space around us.

    “On a serious note though,” I start, bringing the conversation back to how Harry had originally steered it. “You're right. There's got to be a better way. I think...I think we owe it to ourselves to have a decent talk, yeah? I think that's where we've gone wrong a lot in the past. We skip the talking and went straight to fighting or make up sex.”

    “Yeah. I agree. Uhm...well why don't we take the morning to think? Maybe write down the important things that we definitely want to talk about. And then we can make lunch and hash it out,” he suggests. I nod and set my mug down.

    “Good plan. Just...no topic is off limits. No rules. Anything we want to talk about is fair game,” I insist. Harry stares at me with a strange look on is face.  _ When did he become so unreadable? Or maybe it's me. Maybe I just can't read him anymore. _

    “Deal. I'll uh...see you in a few hours,” Harry says. I watch as he takes his tea and retreats to his bedroom. As soon as I've lost sight of him, I sigh and let the pressure behind my eyes explode. As the tears run down my face, I grab the notebook I’d stashed away when I heard Harry coming down. I pick up my pen and stare down at the list that I’d already started earlier this morning.

**I wasn't prepared for you to propose.**

**It's not that I don't want to. I'm just scared.**

**You terrify me.**

**I think this tour is going to be shit if we don't get it together.**

**I miss you.**

**I miss us.**

**I'm sorry that I started drinking again.**

**I'm sorry that I'm probably the reason you started drinking like this.**

**I'm sorry I haven't been there for you when you needed me.**

**I'm sorry I'm such an asshole.**

**I'm sorry that I keep letting shit affect our relationship and our friendship.**

**I'm sorry that I didn't fight for you. I should have.**

**I never should have thrown my keys down.**

**I never should have moved out.**

**We should have talked about it.**

**I was scared.**

**I'm still scared.**

**I meant what I said in that last fight - I need you. But I honestly believe that you don't need me.**

**I don't want to drag you down.**

**I don't want to disappoint you.**

**I still love you.**

**I never stopped.**

    It's not a comprehensive list. But it's a start.

  
  


    “I'm only telling you one more time. Get. Out. Of. My. Kitchen!”

    “Louis, this is not your kitchen. It never has been. Strictly because you can't cook!”

    “Excuse you! I'm cooking right now, aren't I?! Nothing has exploded and nothing is burnt. So, if you don't mind, Harold…I’ll be going back to my culinary masterpiece now.”

    Harry stood next to me, gripping his stomach as he doubles over and laughs. I pick up my wooden spoon and poke him in the side with it. “Are you quite finished?”

    “Alright, alright. I'm going. Please don't burn down our house,” he giggles.  _ Our house _ . I watch as he spins around and goes to sit at the island. I suddenly remember that my list is sitting there out in the open. I turn around, spoon still in hand, to grab it. But it's too late. Harry is already reading it.  _ Well shit _ .

  
  


    “So…” I say just to fill the space. Harry is sitting across from me, wine glass in hand, staring up at the ceiling. He looks so relaxed. Leaning back in his chair, empty plate in front of him, swirling his wine while appearing to be deep in thought. Finally, he speaks. 

    “I didn't think you'd actually come up with a list. Thought you'd just wing it like normal,” he says. 

    “You said to write down the important stuff. That's the important stuff. It's not all of it. I don't think I have the patience to sit here and write out every little thing. But this stuff...well it's the stuff I thought was most pressing,” I admit. Harry stares at me, his deep green eyes bottomless pools. He takes another sip of his wine.

    “I don't know what to say. I wasn't...I didn't think you'd take this seriously,” he says. Of course he didn't. How could he? I've been a complete ass for over a year.

    I look down at Harry's list again.

**I still love you.**

**I never stopped.**

    “I know. But it's time I started taking things seriously. We can't just...pretend anymore. We have to really talk about it. We are officially both in our twenties. We're not teenagers. We have to...grow up. Eventually,” I say. Harry sets his wine down.

    “What does that mean?” he asks. I sigh, pick up my wine, and finish it.

    “It means we talk,” I decide. I wait a moment, trying to formulate my thoughts, when Harry steps in.

    “If I'd known you'd actually take this seriously, I would have written a longer list. I think...I think I kept it short because...well I wanted to hurt you. I wanted to make it seem like this was all that mattered to me. That I have nothing else to say to you,” he says, gesturing to his list.

    “That's okay. I don't blame you. For any of that. I'd want to hurt me too. I've been an ass,” I chuckle. But Harry doesn't laugh.

    “You're not the only one though. I've not been much better,” he says, his voice raising a bit.

    “Relax, Haz. We can sit here and take and pass the blame all day and we're never going to get anywhere. We have other stuff to talk about,” I point out. Harry shakes his head and leans forward.

    “But that's just it. You have stuff to talk about. Because you actually tried. I came up with shit,” he grumbles, pushing his list off the table. He looks back at me, tears welling up in his eyes. “You actually tried. I didn't. I have so much more to say! I'm sorry I gave you ultimatums instead of helping you. I feel like I failed you. I don't blame you for never giving me an answer all the times I proposed. I'm sorry for never talking about it. I'm...I’m sorry for sleeping with Zayn.”

    Yet again, he leaves me without words. How does one respond to that?

    “I don't...look, Harry, I don't blame you. Before you jump in, let me finish,” I instruct upon seeing him open his mouth to protest. “I don't blame you. I did keep you dangling at the end of a rope for a year. That was shitty of me. I let you believe that I didn't want to get married. I let you believe that I didn't care. I will never be able to make up for that. But what you did...the drinking, the anger, the way you acted, even sleeping with Zayn...I get it. I was hurting you. And rather than man up the way I should have, I continued to push you away.

    “I freaked out when you proposed, Harry. Absolutely lost it. I was terrified because I wasn't ready to get married. But you were. I thought if I told you that, you'd leave me. You were ready to settle down and all I could think was that I'll surely fuck it up. Because I always do. So I deflected and insisted that we weren't ready. And that just made it worse. The stupidest part though...is that we were basically already married. We lived together. We bought a house. We did everything together. We had a happy, healthy sex life. We had great friends and amazing careers. We got to travel the world together. We had it all. And I was stupid enough to think that somehow, by getting that piece of paper, that I'd lose it all. I'm an absolute idiot, Harry. Complete tosser. There are no words for how incredibly stupid I am. I had something so great and I threw it away.”

    “Lou, you're not the only-" he starts. But I interrupt him.

    “No, Haz. I  _ am _ the only one. You were open and honest about what you wanted. What you wanted for us. I was a pussy. I was scared and rather than talk to you - my boyfriend, the love of my life, my best friend - rather than talk to you, I literally ran away from you,” I say, renewed tears spilling from my eyes. “Harry...I never stopped loving you. Ever. It was foolish of me to let you believe differently. And now, I'm still afraid”

     “Of what?” he asks gently. The war inside my head comes to halt and I push away every insecurity I have. I take all the negative bullshit - everything that's telling me I don't deserve this boy - and shove it away for the moment. For a moment, I let myself be vulnerable.

    “I'm absolutely terrified that I've lost you completely. That we'll never come back from this.”

  
  


    It's been four hours since I laid it all out for Harry. I threw caution to the wind and decided to be completely honest with him. I told him my deepest fear. And then I watched him get up from the table and walk away. Harry had gone back to his room four hours ago and I haven't heard a thing since.

    I'd sat at the table for awhile in stunned silence. Then, when I'd decided he wasn't coming back down, I cleaned up our lunch and went to my own room. I've been laying in bed since.

    I roll over onto my side and grab my phone. I pull up my current favourite playlist and set it to shuffle. Immediately, my room is filled with the intro to “Little Things”. I drag the covers up over my head and let myself cry.

 

**Harry's POV**

    “I'm absolutely terrified that I've lost you completely. That we'll never come back from this.”

    I have no words. Absolutely no words for this. For him. In a panic, I get up and move away from the table. I leave him there and practically run to my room. Once I'm safely inside, the dams give way and I cry. Great big sobs with lots of snot. It's not pretty.

    I wanted to stay there and have it out with him. To lay everything out and finally be done having these conversations. I was ready to finally walk away. I had actually prepared myself to say that I was done. To tell him we should sell the house and move on. And then I read his list.

    I commit to giving this some serious thought after I nap. I barely slept at all last night. Knowing Louis was just one room over, I was restless until the hours of the morning.

    I roll over and try to find comfort enough to sleep.

  
  


    Hours later, just when I'm finally on the cusp of falling asleep, I hear music through the adjoining wall of Louis’s room.

_ Your hand fits in mine like it's made just for me _

_ But bear this in mind, it was meant to be _

    Quiet sobs overtake me and I pray for sleep. I try to tune it out. I try to ignore it all. But then it gets to  _ the part _ . And every moment - every time I sang those very words - came flooding back in a single rush. All of it.

 

**Louis’s POV**

    The nap, while short, is a welcome relief. When I wake up, I feel better. Even if it's only by a little bit. I roll onto my back and stretch out. I can't help but laugh at the current song on the playlist.

_ I'm sorry if I say “I need you"  _

_ But I don't care _

_ I'm not scared of love _

_ Cause when I'm not with you, I'm weaker _

_ Is that so wrong, is it so wrong? _

_ You make me strong _

    In my own song, Harry can say the words. He says them. They're right there.  _ “I need you" _ .

_ Think of how much _

_ Love that's been wasted _

_ People always _

_ Trying to escape it _

_ Move on to stop their heart breaking _

_ But there's nothing I'm running from _

    And here it is: the line that fucking kills me. So much it hurts me to sing it live.

_ You make me strong _

    I groan and pull another pillow over my face.  _ I can't. This fucking song. I just can't.  _

    I lay there, listening to the rest of the song and thinking about Harry.

    When the last notes fade out, I make a decision. This is a long playlist. But I decide: If the next song is “Happily", I'm getting out of this bed, marching myself over to Harry, and begging him to take me back. I will get on my knees and grovel if I have to. Anything that he needs me to do or say. Anything. If he'll just take me back.

    I decide that is what I'll do. I listen carefully, straining my ears to hear the beginning notes of the next song.

    I'm terrified, if I'm honest. Part of me wants to lay here forever and just waste away. But the rest of me is praying for that opening riff.

_ Tell me you believe in love _

_ It's not an illusion _

    “Fuck it. Close enough,” I say to myself. I open my night table drawer and start digging around. Finally, I find what I’m looking for. With my fingers curled around the film canister, I launch myself out of bed. I grab one of Harry's jumpers, tug it on over my shirt, and race out into the hall. I don't bother knocking, I just throw open his door, “Harry, I'm sorry. I'm an idiot. I love-"

    A suitcase is open on Harry's bed. Several stacks of folded clothes are sitting on his bed along with some toiletries.  _ No. No no no. This is not happening _ .

    “Lou, I-” Harry says, looking between me and his suitcase. 

    “No. Definitely not. Absolutely no. You are not leaving. I'm not leaving, you're not leaving, no one is leaving. I'm saying ‘yes’. I want to marry you. I'm saying ‘yes’. Twenty-eight times yes. And if you're not asking anymore, I'm asking. Marry me, Harry. Please. Marry me.”

    I fall down onto both knees because one doesn't seem good enough. I hold the film canister up so Harry can see it. Then I pop the top off and dump out the contents into my hand. It's a plain silver ring. Nothing fancy. But it's a ring. One that I've had for years.

    “What...is that?” Harry asks. I gulp and look at the ring I've got gripped between my thumb and forefinger.

    “It's a ring.”

    “.....yeah. But what is it? And where did it come from?”

    I take a deep breath. We're talking. Talking is good.

    “It's a ring. That I bought for you. Years ago. It's...well it's the ring I bought when I decided I was going to marry you,” I explain. Harry's jaw is hanging open and his eyes are clouded over.

    “Why is it in a film canister?” he asks. I can't fight the smile that spreads across my face. Here it is. The moment I admit it. The moment I admit how long I've wanted to marry him. The moment that he will know just how long I've been thinking about this. How long I've felt this way.

    “Because this was the only thing I had to put it in. I bought the ring while we were out with the lads. Liam helped me pick it out. Niall had just bought you that new camera for your birthday. The digital one. You stopped using your film camera. You went on that tangent about how film was an unnecessary medium that required time and patience that you didn't have. You became all about the digital camera because you could see your photos right away. There was no reason for you to open any film canisters anymore. It was the safest place I could think of to hide it so you wouldn't find it,” I chuckle. Harry continues staring at the ring until suddenly, realization flashes over his face.

    “Wait. That day in Paris...when you and Liam went off to look for those chocolate pastries I love...you came back with a box of film. I remember making fun of you for buying it when I didn't use film anymore,” he says, recalling the memory. I silently nod, waiting for him to assemble the rest of the details. Then, emotion consumes his features. His hands fly up to cover his mouth in shock. “Louis...Paris...that was before we bought our house. That was the holiday we took during the X Factor tour. We...Louis, oh my God.”

    “I love you, Harry. I always have. I knew from the very first moment we met that you were it for me. You ruined me for anyone else,” I tell him. Silent tears slip out the corners of Harry's eyes as he stares at me.

    “Fuck,” Harry breathes. I smile at him, still waiting. What this boy doesn't know is that I'd wait forever.

    “Marry me.”

    “....."

    “Harry...I...Harry Edward Styles, will you marry me?”

  
    “All ya had to do was ask.”


	24. All Of The Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Sorry it has taken so long to update. I took my time writing this chapter because I wanted it to be perfect. Hope you enjoy :)

**Chapter 24: All of the Stars**

    It was surprisingly easy to fall back into normalcy. Harry and I agreed that this would require more talking. We had a lot to work through. Going a year with so much tension wears on you. But, determined to make the most of the next two days, we'd decided to talk in little pieces. Bits of conversation here and there made it easier to do anyways.

    There were lots of apologies. After the fourth or fifth time that Harry apologized for sleeping with Zayn, I decided that piece was done.

    “Babe...I know you're sorry. I accept your apology. Can we please move on?” I beg. Harry gives me an unsure look like he's considering if I really mean it. I pull him down into my lap and kiss his cheek.

    “Okay,” he sighs, settling into me. We must look ridiculous. By this point, Harry is a good two inches taller than me and he's all gangly limbs and dimples. Even perched in my lap with his legs hanging over the side of my chair, his feet still brush the deck.

    I love our back garden. It's completely fenced in with lots of trees for privacy. The pool house is cute - completely decorated by Harry of course. Our pool, though, hasn't been used much. In fact, I can't recall the last time we went swimming.

    “Let's go swimming,” I propose. A smile breaks out across Harry's face and before I can process the movement, he's up and moving. He grabs my hand and pulls me across the grass, barreling towards the gate which encloses our inground pool.

    “Can you get my floaties?” Harry asks, shedding his clothing. In moments, he's completely naked and jumping into the water. I shake my head and go to get his pool floats. For a guy that doesn't spend too much time in the water, he's got quite the impressive collection.

    Finding two large floats - complete with cup holders - I drag them out to the pool and throw them in. Harry makes quite the production of maneuvering himself up and onto the seat. It's quite the scene.

    Inside the pool house, there's a fridge that's always stocked with snacks and waters. I open it, intending to grab stuff for us and I'm met with an interesting discovery. The fridge is completely filled with alcohol.  _ Maybe the drinking is worse than I thought _ .

    I make a mental note to bring this up later and settle on the last two bottles of water and a couple wrapped up brownies. Ever the chocolate fanatic. Harry stays so healthy. Kale is his best friend. But there will always been a special place in Harry's heart, (and stomach), for all things chocolate.

    “Catch, Haz,” I call out, tossing him a water. I use my foot to pull the empty float over to me and then get on it. And fairly gracefully, might I add. I lean back, enjoying the cool water and sunshine. I plop my water into the cup holder and start unwrapping one of the brownies. I take a big bite and let my eyes close. Hands down, one of the best brownies I've ever had. Harry really is an amazing baker.

    “Lou, what are you eating,” Harry asks. Without opening my eyes, I hold up the brownie.

    “It was in the fridge. I don't care how long it's been there, I'm eating it anyways. It's amazing,” I tell him. There's suddenly a splash and I feel Harry practically climbing on top of me. My eyes fly open just in time to see Harry lunge for the brownie, grabbing it, and throwing it onto the grass. “Oi! I was eating that! You've got to learn to share your chocolate, Hazza.”

    I go to unwrap the second brownie but Harry grabs that one too.

    “You can't eat those,” he says. Alright this is taking it a bit far.

    “And why not?” I question. A deep blush spreads across his cheeks and looks extremely guilty. “Harry...what's in the brownies?”

    “Weed.”

    “.....You made pot brownies? Seriously?”

    Harry hangs his head and nods. “Harry, why on the world would you make pot brownies? You used to give me such a hard time about smoking with Zayn.”

    “It's not a big deal,” he says, deflecting. 

    “Oh it most certainly is. Why are you making pot brownies? Did you have parties? Did you make then for parties?” I ask.

    “No.”

    I hate one word answers. Absolutely hate them.

    “Tokyo,” I sigh.

 

_ “I think we should come up with like a...like a buzz word or something,” Harry said. We laid there, wrapped up in each other, for what felt like hours. Harry's words had brought me back from the edge of blissful slumber. _

_     “What's that?” I mumbled. Harry lazily traced random patterns into the skin on my chest. _

_     “Like a word one of us can say when we think we need to talk. Like a word that tells the other person what they're serious. So if something happens or we’re arguing or something and it's getting out of hand, one of us can say the word and it tells the other person that we need to stop and focus,” Harry explained. It was an interesting concept.  _

_     “So sort of like saying we need to stop and be honest with each other,” I supplied. Harry nodded. _

_     “Yeah. And we can also use it to call each other out on bullshit,” he said, chuckling a bit. _

_     “So your word to let me know I'm being a dick head?” I laughed. Harry let out a sharp laugh and nuzzled his face into my shoulder. _

_     “You said it. Not me,” he said. _

_     “Alright. I like it. What's the word then going to be then?” I asked. _

_     “I don't know. Paris?” he suggested. I wrinkled my nose. _

_     “No, Paris is a good thing. I don't want to associate Paris with stuff that might lead to arguments. Or me being in trouble,” I told him. _

_     “Oh good call. Where's the last place we had a real good talk?” he wondered out loud. I thought for a moment before I remembered. The last productive talk we had was on the last tour. We'd been on the road for a while. Tensions were high and everyone was sick of it. Liam and Niall decided we needed the talk so the pair had basically locked us in a supply closet at the venue in Tokyo. Despite the forced situation, the talk had been fairly good. _

_     “Tokyo,” I decided. Harry tilted his head up to look at me. _

_     “That was an interesting day,” Harry said, obviously recalling the events. I felt myself smile. _

_     That very positive talk also lead to pretty good sex. _

 

    “Tokyo,” I repeat. Harry's shoulders slump forward.

    “I made them for me. They're mine,” he says quietly. It feels like all the air has been sucked from my lungs.  _ In what world does Harry fucking Styles eat pot brownies?! _

    “Why?” I ask. Harry moves around until he can lean his head against my abdomen. He keeps most of his weight off me so we don't sink but he's close enough that I can wrap an arm around him.

    “I wasn't sleeping. At all. I was awake for three days straight after you left. I was so tired, I was getting sick. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't go back in our room. I went back to my old room and laid there. I laid awake for hours. No amount of crying or alcohol would knock me out. So I tried the brownies,” he explains. Hot tears gather in my eyes. My heart aches. So much so, it may actually be breaking.

    I sit up on the float and pull Harry to my chest. I turn my head and press my lips to his neck.

    “I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so, so sorry,” I cry. Harry's arms circle my body and hold me tightly.

    “I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have done it,” he says. We stay like that for awhile, just holding onto each other. Finally, I have to ask my last question.

    “How often?” I ask. Harry's doesn't move or speak. “Baby? How often?”

    Disturbingly long pause.

    “At least a couple times a week,” he finally says. My breath catches.

    “Since I left?”

    “.....Yeah.”

    Yup. Heart is breaking. 

  
  
  


    “Tommo! Haz! Really hoping you haven't killed each other. Neither of you has answered your phone in nearly twenty-four hours!” Niall shouts upon opening our front door.

    One of these days, our band mates will learn to knock. Maybe. Probably not. 

    “Hold on!” I shout back. I grab onto Harry's shoulders and snap my hips forward again.

    “Lou, they're inside,” Harry hisses, trying to sound serious. But he erupts in giggles.

    “Yup. And they didn't knock. I don't give a shit. They can't see you anyways,” I say, not letting up on the pace I'd set. I've currently got Harry leaning over the back of the couch, his knees digging into the cushions.

    I reach a hand up into Harry's curls and tug sharply, forcing a moan out of his throat. I smirk at the reaction, pleased with myself, just as Paddy rounds the corner.

    “Oh for the love of-” he groans, clamping a hand over his eyes. “Bus is leaving in ten minutes.”

    “Sounds good!” I shout as he practically runs from the room.

    “You're unbelievable,” Harry groans from underneath me. I grab his curls again and thrust in particularly roughly.

    “Your ass is unbelievable. And your mouth. And your cock. All of you. Absolutely incredible,” I moan between thrusts.

    “We're still here ya know!” Liam shouts from the foyer.

    “Then leave or come watch. Either way, shut up,” Harry practically growls. Another moan rips through him and I can tell he's getting close. Which is good because I'm about to lose it.

    “You're inviting our mates to watch us fuck? To watch you become an absolute mess? You want them to watch while I pound into you? While I pull your hair and spank you?” I breathe into his ear. I pull my hand out of his hair and spank him just for good measure.

    “Yes, please,” Harry moans.  _ Jesus fuck. Didn't expect that _ . The thought of our friends watching does unexpected things. I'm getting closer and closer. I reach around and grab Harry's hard cock. He's dripping and nearly there.

    “Cum for me baby. Wanna hear you moan. Let go,” I command, pumping his cock in time with my thrusts. Right on cue, Harry falls apart. His walls contract around me as he moans my name. Harry spills over my hand, obscene sounds erupting from his throat.

    And that does it for me. I tumble after him, finding my release. I grip his hips and fuck into him until I have nothing left. I sigh, pull out, and roll over onto my back on the couch. Catching my breath, I can only swear, “Fuck.”

    Harry chuckles and nudges me, grasping for my attention. I crack open one of my eyes and see him holding out a small purple thing. Upon closer inspection, I discover it's a sparkly purple plug. A butt plug to be exact. My mouth goes dry.

    “Are you kidding?” I ask. Surely he can't be serious. This is what my best wet dreams are made of.

    “Please?” he begs quietly.  _ Well fuck me sideways.  _

    “Yeah alright,” I mutter. I have to focus a ridiculous amount of my attention onto carefully pushing the plug inside of him. While the nub that's designed to stay outside his body is fairly small, the rest of it isn't. In fact, now that I'm holding it and slipping into his bum, I can see it's rather large.

    Harry moans as I maneuver the rubber plug into place. Finally, it slips past his rim and settles inside him. I look up at Harry who, I've just know noticed, has been watching me over his shoulder. I don't think I've ever seen anything so fucking sexy in my life.

    His milky skin is flushed pink. His curls are a mess and his lips are bitten red. His pupils are still wide with desire as he watches me. And that plug.  _ Fuck _ . He looks completely fucked out and I love it.

    “Like what you see?” he teases. I lean forward and squeeze his bum.

    “You have no idea.”

  
  


    “You make obscene sounds, Harry,” Niall laughs. Now that everyone is settled on bus one again, I'm content. Harry is sitting in my lap on the bean bag and the rest of the lads seem to be at ease. Well except Harry. He's currently blushing and hiding his face in my neck.

    “I would apologize but I'm really not sorry,” I say matter of factly. Harry swats at my chest, making me laugh more. “What? I'm not. They should learn to knock.”

    “You know, years from now, when we're done touring, you two should go into porn,” the Irishman says as he walks back and forth with a bowl of popcorn. He sounds so casual about it. Like this is normal, everyday conversation. Thankfully, Liam sweeps in and handles it. He reaches up and lands a smack to Niall's left buttcheek. “Oi! That was uncalled for.”

    “Try behaving yourself then,” Liam chuckles.  _ Yeah. Cause we're all so good at behaving ourselves. _

    “Do you want to tell them?” I whisper so only Harry can hear. He looks up at me with his big green eyes and I'm momentarily breathless.

    “Yes,” he smiles. I feel my stomach flip as the excitement spreads through me. I've been waiting since he said yes to tell the boys. I've done very well with waiting if I do say so myself. I've even managed to wait on telling our families. All because Harry wants to tell people in person.

    “Hey, lads. Uhm...quick band meeting in the back?” I ask, gesturing towards the back of the bus. Liam looks over this shoulder at Maxx and Paddy who are sitting at our little table.

    “Yeah, let's go,” he says. We all get up and make our way back towards our bunks. Once were crammed into the narrow space, Niall and Zayn sit on Zayn's bunk, Harry and I sit on mine, and Liam sits on the floor. Harry reaches up and drags the curtain closed, separating us from the rest of the bus.

    “Alright. What's all the cloak and dagger about?” Niall asks, eyeing us suspiciously. I look sideways at Harry, urging him to say it.

    “Well. As you guys now the last year-" Harry starts. He's tip-toeing. I don't have patience for such silliness so I nudge his shoulder. He shoots me a look and I make an exaggerated face. Like I'm dying while waiting for the news. “Oh fine. So pushy. Lads...we're engaged.”

    “WHAT?!”

    “About fuckin’ time.”

    “Oh my god!”

    Each of our friends burst into questions and hugs of congratulations.

    “So. I take it you talked then, yeah?” Liam chuckles as he punches my arm.

    “Yeah. Something like that,” I joke, winking at Harry. Apparently it's his turn to sock me in the arm. “Jeez. So aggressive.”

    “It was good. Lots of talking. Little bit of yelling. Turns out this one’s knees are good for all kinds of things,” Harry says, snickering. I can't help but roll my eyes. 

    “Oh c’mon, Haz. I really didn’t need that vis-...wait...what?!  _ You _ asked?” Liam asks, turning to me as shock drowns his words. Now it's my turn to blush.

    “Yeah,” I say quietly. I turn towards Harry and kiss his cheek before pushing my face into his curls and humming.

    “Wow. Good job, Tommo,” Zayn says. He lifts his hand for a fist bump. I gladly return it.

    “So? When's the big day?” Niall asks around a mouthful of popcorn.

    “Well. That's the tricky bit,” I start. Liam immediately leaps to his feet.

    “Don't you dare tell me you already got married. I will never speak to either of you again,” Liam threatens. 

    “Calm down, Payno. No, we didn't already get married. Of course we want you guys there. But, as I was saying, it's a bit tricky because so many fans already think we got married. The whole September debacle kind of set that in motion,” I point out. Harry's face is suddenly very, very red.

    “I know, I know. Bad Hazza,” he says, hanging his head and chuckling.

    “Do you really think people are still stuck on that?” Zayn asks.

    “I think if my mum hadn't chimed in, then we could get away with a complete denial. But...well ‘it is what it is’,” Harry quotes, giggling to himself.  _ Cute.  _

    “Yeah and Ed wasn't much help either.”

  
  


_     “Can I tell you how silly the online course is to become ordained? So silly.” _

_     “Well I'm sure Harry with thank you profusely for enduring such silliness. And could you keep your tweets to yourself maybe? Last thing we need is management getting wind of this,” I muttered. Ed gave me an annoyed look and flopped down onto the couch next to me. _

_     “Why are you being such a tit about this? You've basically been married since you bought the house,” Ed said. The full on confrontation surprised me. So, of course, I got defensive. _

_     “And why do you give a shit? It's our lives. I’m not being a tit. I'm trying to be realistic. This is insane. I haven't even answered him yet,” I spat. _

_     “Well then what the fuck are we doing here, Lou? You do realize what you're about to do, yeah? Louis, your families know. You told them. Your band knows. Your security personnel know. The people who care about you and Harry the most all know. And we're all happy for you. You really think that if any of us thought it was a bad idea, we'd be letting you do this? Harry's mum was right, you know. In her tweet? You are making a good decision. You and Harry are a good thing. Stop fighting it,” Ed lectured. I threw myself back into the couch and sighed. _

_     “Then explain to my why I'm the only you who doesn't think so! I don't think this is a good idea, Ed. I think this is insanity. We don't need a fucking piece of paper to make shit official. Like you said, we've basically been married since we bought the house. So why does it need to change? Why now? Why is there a pressing need to get married right now? But I'll do it. I think it's a mistake but I'll fucking do it because I love him. And if I don't do it today, I'm going to lose him completely!” I shouted. I looked at Ed and saw his face had lost all colour. “What's your problem?” _

_     Silently, Ed lifted a finger and pointed behind me. Instantly, my stomach dropped and I prayed it wasn't happening. I prayed that what I turned around to wouldn't be what I was picturing. Slowly, I turned my head. _

_     There stood Harry Styles. A flower crown was stuck in his curls. His favourite pair of skinny jeans matched up with my favourite jumper. And tears. Lots and lots of silent tears. _

  
  


    “You still haven't really told us what happened that day,” Zayn says gently. I look to Harry for direction here. We agreed that we were done lying to our band mates. Time to come clean.

    “Harry left me at the altar,” I tell them. Shocked faces all around. No one says a word. So I go on, “Ed got ordained online for us. I hadn't been living at home for months. Right after Harry proposed the first time, we sort of...ignored each other for a few days because I didn't give him an answer. Then we had a huge fight. And then...well then I left.”

    “What do you mean?” Niall asks. He's abandoned the popcorn and now is giving us his undivided attention.

    “I left. We had a fight, I threw down my keys, and I left. I packed up some clothes and crashed at a hotel for a couple nights. Then I bought a flat. Whenever Harry wasn't home, I'd go back and pack up more stuff. But most of it, I just left there. I haven't really lived there in over a year,” I tell them. Zayn looks like he's almost to the point of tears and Liam looks utterly gutted.

    “You broke up?” Liam asks. I immediately shake my head.

    “No. We just...were sort of in limbo, I guess. We never had like that final conversation that decided to end it. We didn't see other people. We just sort of left it alone and ignored it,” I say. Harry squeezes my knee encouragingly. Then he takes over.

    “We really didn't speak at all. Aside from normal tour stuff, we ignored each other,” Harry says. Niall shakes his head like he's confused.

    “But you were still together. All the time. You still shared rooms and bunks,” the blonde says. I can't help but chuckle.

    “Yeah. I slept on the floor. Or on couches. We didn't want our issues to affect the band. So we carried on like nothing was wrong. If we slept on the bus, I snuck back out of the bunk and into mine after you lot were asleep. Or I’d go out and sleep on the couch. Or the bean bag. Or not at all,” I explain.

    “We were afraid that our issues would put strain on you guys. We were already on tour and things were so crazy. And then...well I got crazy. I was so mad and upset. I gave him an ultimatum. Either we got married or we were done. So...on September twenty-eighth last year, Ed met us in Perth and we were gonna do it. I was so crazy. I said that was it. Either we got married or that was it and I was done pretending. So we had everything all set. Ed got ordained online. We got rings. Everything. And then. Uhm...well I-I left. I couldn't...I couldn't do it. I couldn't force him to marry me if he didn't want to,” Harry says. Even though we've talked about this countless times over the last two days, it doesn't make it any less painful to recall.

    “What the fuck happened?” Liam asks. Harry and I look at each other. Now it's my turn again.

    “I was an asshole. I was talking to Ed beforehand. Absolutely freaking out in my own head and then my mouth started going and I voiced my concerns. But I was a dick about it. Rather than talk to Harry like I should have, I lost my cool and yelled at Ed. I told him I thought it was a mistake. But that I would do it anyways because I loved Harry and didn't want to lose him completely. It was in the heat of the moment though. That's not really what the problem was. The problem was that I was terrified. But rather than admit that, I was a dick,” I finish. Harry slips his hand into mine, threading our fingers together.

    “So you left? You just left?” Niall asks Harry. The curly haired boy that I love just nods his head. The memory comes flooding back.

  
  


_     “What is taking him so long? Ed, why is he taking so long?” I demanded. I'd been waiting for Harry to come back for nearly fifteen minutes. He said he only needed a moment before he’d practically run from the room. The elderly couple who we'd found to be our witnesses sat there in uncomfortable silence. The husband kept glancing at me before finally getting up and pulling me off to the side with him. _

_     “Son, I'm sorry. I don't...I don't think he's coming back. I'm sorry,” he said. His face showed genuine sadness. I looked back at Ed. He stood there at the makeshift altar in the tiny wedding chapel with neon signs. He, too, looked sad. _

_     “I'm sorry, mate,” Ed apologized. It wasn't his fault though. It was all mine. It always is. _

  
  


    “Yep. So we went right back to ignoring it. We played the show that night. And continued on,” I say. Then we sit in silence. I watch my mates’ faces as the information settles in. Sadness. Anger. Confusion. Despair. I see it all in their eyes.

    “Alright, enough moping. Back to the present, we're getting married. And I want it to mean something. Like the date we choose. Australia 2013 was the Take Me Home Tour. And throughout that tour, if there's one thing I learned from all the bullshit, it's that you are my everything. My home is where you are,” Harry says, his fingers brushing my jaw. I smile into his touch.

    “So you want to do September twenty-eighth of this year. The Where We Are Tour. Very poetic. I love it. Where will we be for that date? I think that's when we jump around a bit, yeah? We added a couple US dates, right?” Liam mutters, pulling out his your schedule.  _ Leave it to Liam to have a tour schedule on his person at all times _ .

    “Yeah. We'll be in Charlotte, North Carolina. We're gonna mix up the setlist for that show too,” Harry tells this, mischief seeping in.

    “Oh?” Zayn asks, clearly picking up on the trouble we're going to cause.

    “Yes. So first of all, be prepared for lyric changes. Nothing too major. But they will be there. ‘Little Things’ will obviously go the way you'd expect. We're taking out ‘Little Black Dress’ and subbing in ‘I Would’. Then, ‘Midnight Memories’, ‘I Would’, and ‘Kiss You’ will be played back to back. Then there's a whole block that is going to be done in a very specific order,” I tell them. I pull a piece of notebook paper out of my pocket and show them our revised setlist. Niall, Liam, and Zayn scan the list quickly - smiling as they put the pieces together.

 

**Midnight Memories**

**I Would *Subbing for Little Black Dress***

**Kiss You**

**Why Don’t We Go There?**

**Rock Me**

**Don't Forget Where You Belong**

**Live While We’re Young**

**C'mon C'mon**

**Right Now**

**Through The Dark**

**Happily**

**Little Things**

**Moments**

**Strong**

**Better Than Words**

**Alive**

**One Thing**

**Diana**

**What Makes You Beautiful**

**You & I**

**Story Of My Life**

**Little White Lies**

**Best Song Ever**

 

    “This is brilliant, lads,” Niall praises.

    “The funny part is we barely have to change anything. I mean this is almost exactly our regular set anyways. That’s got to mean something, yeah?” Liam chuckles. “Meant to be, I think.”

    “Thanks. We’d like to think so too. Now the last piece to secure is the musicians. If we can get then to agree and pitch it to Paul about changing the set, we'll be golden. Which shouldn't be a problem,” I say.

    “I've actually already talked to Josh and he's on board. He said the rest will be too but he's gonna let us tell them. And since the Charlotte show is the only one we need to change, it should go fine,” Harry says. I smile and sigh. Everything seems to be falling into place.

    “Where will Ed be that day?” Niall asks. I can see the gears turning in his head and I'm disappointed in myself that I hadn't thought of it.

    “Oh my god, Lou...what if he came to the show? We could do something really crazy like get married at the venue. Maybe right before we go on,” Harry grins. He says it's crazy...but I'm in love with the idea.

    “Or...what if we got married  _ during _ the concert?”

  
  
  


    “You're insane. Absolutely mad. And I love it,” Ed laughs. My band mates and I are huddled around my phone which is currently on speakerphone. We're still on the bus while everyone else has vacated and moved into the hotel.

    “So you'll do it?” Harry asks excitedly.

    “Absolutely! My last US gig is September twentieth in Vegas. Got a couple days off. Then the next show is in London on the twenty-ninth. It'll be cutting it close, but I can make it work,” Ed says. A massive weight lifts of my chest as this piece of the puzzle solidifies.

    “Cheers, mate. We owe you,” I smile. We say hasty goodbyes before each of us calls a musician, summoning then to bus one.

    It takes no time at all for the living area to be crammed with people. The five of us, the musicians, Lou, Lux, Paddy, Preston, and Cole are all seated, beers being passed around.

    “Alright, boys. As much as I love these little pow wows, they're usually in a bigger space. What's up?” Preston asks. The gravity of this announcement is resting on my shoulders and threatens to swallow me whole. Thankfully, Harry is too excited to keep quiet.

    “Yes, okay. So...we've asked you all here because each of you is very important to this band. You guys are the best tour family we could ask for. I think I can speak for all five of us when I say One Direction wouldn't be here if it weren't for each of you. We love you. And well...we wanted to tell you guys in person about a bit of good news we have,” Harry starts, looking at all our friends and coworkers excitedly.

    “Very long story short, Harry and I have been through a lot over the last couple years. You all know that. We've never really hidden ourselves from you guys like we have from management and others. And that's because we trust you. So we thought it only fitting to entrust you with this information as well,” I supply. At this point, everyone except the other boys and Josh is sitting on the edge of their seat in anticipation. The trouble maker in me wants to keep stringing them along a bit. But Harry would kill me. “So...Harry and I are getting married.”

    I was initially going to go right into the rest of our spiel about needing their help but I decide to wait and let the hoops and hollers and questions out first. And it's a good thing because everyone in the tiny space immediately jumps into hysterics. 

    “Congrats, lads,” Paddy smiles. He claps each of us on the back just before Preston pulls us both into a hug.

    “It's about damn time,” Lou says, pressing her cheek to mine for a kiss. Lux makes grabby hands for Harry and he's all too happy to oblige.

    “So happy for you guys,” Josh smiles from his seat.

    “Thanks, guys. Really, thank you. Now there is one more thing,” I say. Paddy and Preston let out large, exacerbated sighs.

    “There always is,” Paddy groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. I ignore them, as well as the chuckles from everyone else.

    “ _ Anyways _ ...as I was saying, there’s one more piece. We want to change the setlist for the Charlotte, North Carolina show on September twenty-eighth,” I tell them. No one really reacts, like maybe they’re waiting for me to explain myself.

    “Okay,” Preston says, breaking the strange silence. “Only that show?”

    “Yes. Uhm...only that show,” Harry answers. I make eye contact with our bassist, Sandy. I try not to laugh as I see the lightbulb over his head light up.

    “Oh my God,” he mutters, shaking his head. Then, one by one, people start to get it.

    “We plan on getting married during the show. Ed Sheeran is ordained and he’s going to meet us at the show. Changing the setlist a little bit will be a fun way of commemorating the event,” I smile. I consider leaving it at that but Niall jumps in.

    “You’ll appreciate the additions to the set. It tells a story. One that management best not forget,” he says, smiling mischievously. The setlist gets passed around so everyone can see. All the musicians seem pleased with it. Then, Niall continues, “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m really tired of management giving Haz and Tommo such a hard time.”

    Words of encouragement and support tell me that the room is consensus.

    “We don’t have all the details figured out yet. We still have to hammer out some things. But we wanted you all to know. And...well we’re happy. And we wanted you to know that we’re happy. Your support means the world to us,” I tell them. I can feel the emotion rising in my throat and I think I’ve stopped talking before anyone noticed. I’m wrong.

    “Aw, Tommo!” my band mates coo, dragging me in for a big group hug.

    It’s not perfect. That would be too easy. But it’s definitely a start.

  
  


    A few days later, when the first American leg is in full swing, things feel almost normal again. Zayn and I have returned to causing mass chaos. Niall eats his weight in food and manages to burn all the calories off by doing next to nothing. Liam is in full dad mode, (though none of us complain because we’d be a mess without him). And Harry is...well Harry is Harry. He’s the charmer. He’s got the powerful voice that makes teenage girls weak in the knees. He’s all dimples when he smiles and he’s smiling almost constantly. My boyfriend is - no! My  _ fiance  _ is happy. What a word that is. Fiance. Shit.

    I smile to myself and close my eyes, listening to the faint music wafting through the bus. It was my turn to pick the music so there's been lots of The Fray. But currently, I'm enjoying Snow Patrol and the planted idea of laying down with Harry and just forgetting the world. It's a tempting fantasy.

    “Hey, babe?” Harry calls from the bunks. I open my eyes and see Harry sticking his head out of my bunk.

    “Yeah?” I ask. If I don’t absolutely have to get up, I’m not getting up. I’m far too lazy.

    “Can you help me a moment? Please?” he asks sweetly. I narrow my eyes at him. He either has a ridiculous request or he’s plotting something. Either way, I don’t trust it.

    “What do you need help with, love?” I call back. I hear Harry huff in annoyance.

    “Can you come here? It’ll only take a minute,” he tells me.  _ He’s definitely up to something _ . The last time Harry asked for my help, which was just last night, I was met with a full frontal attack of silly string. Now, I’ve learned to tread carefully.

    “Or you can just tell me what you need,” I counter. I watch as a brief moment of annoyance flashes over Harry’s face.

    “Can’t tell you. Just come here,” he whines. Niall, who’s sitting across from me on the couch, watches the scene and chuckles to himself. I dump the notebook that had been in my lap onto the floor next to me and cross my arms over my chest.

    “Show me then, yeah?”

    Harry studies me, silently. Then, with a huff like he’s giving up, he climbs out of my bunk. Harry Styles is dressed in a pair of lacy pink panties. And nothing else. The tall, gorgeous man leans against the bunks, hands poised on his hips.

    “Enough of a reason to get off your ass yet?” he asks. My jaw drops. I’m leaping out of my seat and racing towards him before I can even process what I’m doing. Just as I reach him, my hands smoothing over his lace adorned hips, the bus rolls to a stop.

    “Shit. Are we there already?” Harry asks, scrambling back into my bunk. His question is answered right away when Paul gets on the bus and tells us all to be ready in fifteen to go up for our interview. The radio show is only the first stop of the day. We’ve got three interviews and some brand promo thing to do before we’ll be able to relax at the hotel.

     While the rest of the lads start moving towards the front of the bus, I climb into my bunk slowly. Moving like Harry is my prey. And maybe he is.

    “Fifteen minutes is plenty of time,” I say. I find Harry trying to wiggle out of the panties, a pair of boxers and a pile of clothes crumbled at his feet. I grab his hands and pull them up and away from the garment. “Don’t touch. I like them.”

    “I do too. But we have to go,” Harry hisses, wiggling against my hold. I pin his hands down against the thin mattress.

    “Paul said fifteen minutes. That’s more than enough time,” I growl. I lean forward and nip at his earlobe. “This is about you. And we both know how to get you off quickly. Especially when you’ve misbehaved.”

    Harry’s eyes widen comically as I make quick work of taking off my belt. I run the soft leather over the skin of his belly before wrapping his wrists. It take no time at all to restrain him and soon, he’s a wiggling mess. His curls are already unruly, sticking out in all directions.

    “Please, Lou,” he says. I smile at his words.

    “Please what? What do you want?” I ask. I kiss down his chest, past his belly, and right to the laurels tattooed on his hips. I nip at his skin and suck a deep red mark into the space framed between the tattoos.

    “Want you,” Harry rasps. I use my fingers to pull the pretty panites down over his bum and part way down his legs. I’m not surprised to find that his cock is already hard and leaking.

    “What am I going to do with you? My lovely little  _ fiance _ thinks he’s all innocent in lace. But you’re not. Are you?” I ask, kissing down to his thigh. Harry twists around, fighting against the restraint of the belt. Harry’s hips lift of the mattress, pushing towards me.

    “No,” Harry whines. I nip at his thigh.

    “No, you’re not innocent? Or no as in you’re red?” I ask for clarification. Harry shakes his head, sending his curls all over the place.

    “I’m not innocent. I’m green. Please please please, Lou. I’m green,” Harry says in a rush. I feel myself grin against Harry’s skin. Oh how I love to hear this boy beg. “Please, baby. Lou, I need it.”

    “You two are the kinkiest fuckers I know,” Niall says from the other side of the curtain.

    “They’re still in here, you asshole?!” Harry nearly shrieks. I reach up and smack his mouth.

    “Did I say you could talk? Behave yourself,” I chastise. I stick my head out of the bunk. Niall and Liam are standing there, waiting. “And what do you want?”

    “Can I watch?” Niall asks. Liam’s face drops to one of complete horror.

    “No! You cannot watch! Good lord. Get out. Out. You and Zayn, out. Lou, ten minutes. No joking. Ten minutes,” Liam instructs, pushing his boyfriend towards the front of the bus. As soon as I hear the door close and latch, my attention is back on Harry.

    “What do you need?” I ask despite already knowing. Harry continues to whine and twist around under my hands. When he doesn’t respond right away, I give him a punishing bite right to the inside of his thigh. Harry hisses at the sharpness. “What...do...you...need, Harry. Tell me. Or I’m going to follow our friends and leave you here a whining mess.”

    “I need to be punished! I need to be punished. I was bad,” Harry whimpers. The sounds he makes go straight to my cock. But this isn’t about me, it’s about Harry. And this is wasting time.

    “Another time, I’ll play with you more. Maybe if you’re good now, take your punishment like a good boy, you can earn a reward for later,” I whisper.

    “Give it to me, Lou. I can do it,” Harry moans. I grab his hips and push him over his stomach.

    “What’s your colour?” I ask one last time. Harry audibly gulps.

    “Green,” he practically whispers. I kiss the small of his back before moving away, creating a space between us. Sticking my hand underneath the edge of my mattress, I find a small bag. Inside, is several small toys that we keep within reach. Convenient for a time such as this.

    I open the bag and take out the small, silver pinwheel. This thing - a Wartenberg Pinwheel - has become one of my favourites. It small and simple so it's easy to conceal. It's not sharp. But it's metal and just enough to make Harry squirm.

    I use the wheel to roll over the swell of Harry's bum. His reaction is immediate, moaning and groaning while he twists. I give him a quick swat and tell him to be still. Harry's always had trouble following directions.

    “Up on your knees, chest down,” I instruct. Harry struggles but manages to get into the position requested. I use one hand to pull his cheeks apart while the other hand guides the pinwheel over Harry's hole. I watch as he flutters, seeking something more substantial. “You're so greedy. Not even this part of you can be patient.”

    “C’mon, Lou. I'm too amped up for this,” Harry whines.  _ Oh. And he's gonna get mouthy. _ I deliver another swat to his bum, this one harder than the last.

    “Do you think I care? This isn’t for your pleasure, Harry. You're being punished. You misbehaved. You let our friends see you in panties that are solely for me. You're talking back. And now you're being uncooperative. Do you think you deserve pleasure right now?” I asking, letting a biting tone invade my words.

    “No, sir,” Harry groans. Now, he's still.  _ Ah ha. We're learning. _

    “You know...I was going to just tease you. Use the pinwheel. Spank you with my hand. Then that would be the end of it. But you've convinced me otherwise. I think you require more of a punishment. What do you think?” I ask. Harry takes several deep breaths, like he's preparing himself.

    “I think you know what's best. I was naughty. I'm sorry, sir,” Harry says, though still sounding playful. Abandoning the pinwheel, I root around for my next tool. Finally, I find it. I run my fingers over the smooth wooden handle of Harry's hair brush. I can count the number of times I've seen him actually brush his hair on one hand. How many times I've used it to punish him though...well that's another thing entirely.

    “I'm going to use your brush. I'm going to hit you ten times and you're going to count.  Do you understand?” I ask. Harry shivers.

    “Yes, sir.”

    “I will tell you when your punishment is over. Do you understand?”

    “Yes, sir.”

    “What's your colour?”

    “Green.”

    And then we begin.

  
  
  


    “Nice of you to finally join us,” Paul says, rolling his eyes. Harry and I made it up to the radio station studio just in time for the briefing. Paul nods at us and then begins going through the topics to be covered. He also takes the time to tell the interviewer not to bring up any romantic relationships concerning any of us. The interviewer, Rachel, agrees and we're given a two minute warning.

    “Hello, boys. It's nice to see you. Please sit. We'll go on air in just a few. We're playing ‘Little Things’ right now. And then we'll dive right in,” Rachel smiles. Then she notices that Harry is still standing. “Go ahead and set, Harry.”

    “Uhm...do I have to?” Harry asks, a deep blush spreading over his cheeks. Rachel looks at him in confusion. 

    “No, I suppose not. You might be more comfortable though,” Rachel points out. Harry briefly looks at me, almost like he's asking for permission. I shrug my shoulders and gesture towards his designated seat. Harry silently shakes his head.

    “Harry, sit down,” Paul instructs. Harry's shoulders slump as he carefully slides into his seat between me and Liam. I lean over so only Harry can hear me.

    “What's your colour?”

    “G-green.”

    “If that changes, tell me and I'll get you out,” I tell him. Harry looks at me with big, loving, mossy eyes. He smiles and the tension lessens.

    “Okay,” he whispers. I open my mouth to tell him I love him but suddenly Rachel begins speaking.

    “Alright, alright...that was ‘Little Things’ by One Direction. For those of you just joining us, we've got the boys in the studio today! Say hello, boys,” Rachel says cheerily. We all chorus a “hello" before Rachel goes on. “Thanks for coming in today guys! It must be so crazy trying to fit everything into your tour schedule.”

    “Yeah, it's a bit hectic. But we wouldn't have it any other way. You know, this is what we've always done since day one. It's crazy but we love it,” Liam says. I'm trying to focus on the interview but I'm hyperaware of Harry shifting around next to me. He must be uncomfortable. Ten smacks with the brush was probably too much considering needing to sit for the radio show. Guilt starts to sink in. But before I can get swallowed up by it, Harry's hand touches my leg. He makes a thumbs up with his hand and gently pushes his curled fingers into the side of my knee.

    “Do you think the chaotic schedule wears on you though? I mean you're going going going all the time. Does it affect your performances at all?” Rachel wonders.

    “It gets tiring, yeah. But we all make every effort we can to give one hundred and ten percent at every performance,” Niall says. The rest of us hum in agreement.

    “And how is it being away from your families? Harry and Louis, I know the pair of you bought a house in LA and live together. I imagine you're like family now,” Rachel says. This time, I jump in.

    “Yeah we are like family. The five of us are, really. We're so lucky to have each other as well as the rest of the people working the tour. We're a giant family and it's great. It definitely makes being away from our parents a little easier,” I tell her.

    “I imagine it must have been quite the shock embarking on this journey. I mean, Harry, you were just sixteen when you auditioned for the X Factor. How has your age impacted your experiences thus far?” Rachel asks. I sigh, knowing Harry is about to get upset. He hates being painted as the baby of the group.

    “Other than not being able to drink in the US yet, I don't think there's much if a difference between my band mates and myself,” the curly haired boy chuckles. “I think starting this career so early could have been rough if I didn't have such a great support system. But these guys are the best. They keep me in line.”

    Harry's words are seemingly innocent but I can help the smirk I feel creep across my face.  _ Oh I'll keep you in line. _ I push the thoughts away in an attempt to keep my dick under control.

    “That's great. Now this tour, the Where We Are Tour...who came up with the name for that?” Rachel asks.

    “That would be Paul, our tour manager,” Niall says. Rachel looks around the cramped space until she finds the man in question.

    “Ah, yes. Paul, could you throw on a headset for me?” she asks. Paul hates interviews. He has said time and time again that he hates them. But given we're on live radio, he can't really refuse. Paul stands next to me and slips on a pair of headphones with an attached mic. “Thank you. Well well well. Mr. Paul. What’s it like working with this group of boys?”

    “It requires a lot of caffeine,” Paul says, smiling at us. Everyone erupts in laughter. “Yes, lots of caffeine. On a serious note though, they're a great bunch. I'm lucky enough to have been with them from the beginning so I've be able to see four out of the five of them grow and mature.” Paul digs his elbow into my ribs.

    “Hey now. I resent that. I'm the oldest. I'm proper responsible,” I say in all seriousness. Harry erupts into a fit of giggles and Niall can barely keep himself upright in his seat.

    “Yeah...responsible for all tour chaos,” Paul chuckles. I roll my eyes but don’t argue. The man’s not wrong.

  
  
  


    The rest of the interview goes by without issue and before we know it, we’re being ushered back outside to the buses. Just before the bus door shuts, Paul jumps on.

    “We’re going right to the next interview so don’t get too comfortable,” he instructs. Rather than leave us again, Paul makes himself comfortable on one of our couches. I look to Liam for answers but he just shrugs his shoulders.

    “What’s up, Paul?” I ask. I settle down onto the couch next to him. Paul glances around quickly before handing me a piece of paper. It’s an article, printed off the web, and it’s about me. Anger bubbles up in my throat. “Tell me they called me a fuckin’ twink again.”

    I scan the first few paragraphs and it’s the same shit. In not such vulgar words, I’m a twink. And Harry’s bitch.

    “Lou, you need a girlfriend,” Paul says gently. I crumple up the paper and whip it across the bus. It smacks into the window just next to Niall’s head and bounces to the ground. Niall looks at me with a confused look and then picks up the paper. Reading over it, his faces drops to a frown.

    “No, I need for everyone to keep their goddamned opinions to themselves. Why do they give a shit?” I spit. Paul sighs and scrubs his hands over his face.

    “They need a good story. You’ve been behaving yourself lately. All of you have. Which is good. But it doesn’t make for great gossip. These people...they’re just grasping at thin air. You’re not giving them a story so they create one,” Paul says. It’s something we’ve all heard before. Each of us, every member of the band, has been at the center of the media circus a time or two. I, however, seem to be a nearly permanent attraction.

    “So what? I’ve had a girlfriend. How well did that go over? We both know they’re not going to drop it. It’ll just change. No matter the girl, the stories don’t go away. Instead of being Harry’s bitch they focus on the poor girl who's been selected as my ‘flavour of the week’. It’s not fair to them or to me,” I say, my voice raising just a bit. I know I’m getting worked up. I need to stay calm but this is just one of those things. I can’t help but lose my cool a bit.

    “Well, there’s one way to at least help yourself. Make the rumours die down a bit,” Paul sighs, pulling out his cell phone. A knot forms in my stomach.

    “Do tell,” I grit. Paul looks at me one last time with a strange expression. He almost looks sorry for me.

    “Try putting effort into your relationships with these girls. Put your acting skills to the test.”

  
  
  


    And now I’m pacing. It’s the end of the day, the sun is about to set, the venue is buzzing with excitement, and I’m pacing in my dressing room. Harry is seated on the floor with Lux in front of him and they’re playing with Barbies.

    “Baby, can you sit down, please?” Harry begs for the fifth time. I ignore him and continue to pace. The tension in my shoulders is becoming uncomfortable and it's only adding to my sour mood. “Oh hey, Ed is FaceTiming us.”

    That's enough to make me focus. I sink to the floor next to Harry and pull Lux into my lap, letting Harry answer the phone. Lux squeals when Ed's face pops up on the screen. 

    “Oh hello to you too, Lux!” Ed laughs. He waves to the little girl. Lux waves back shyly and then hides her face in my chest.

    “Uh oh...I think you've got an admirer, Ed,” Harry chuckles.

    “At least this admiration is mutual,” our friend beams. “Anyways, I've got a surprise for you.”

    “Oh? And what's that?” Harry asks, clearly excited. The boy loves surprises. Can't keep a surprise a secret to save his life but he loves being on the receiving end of such excitement.

    “Well I'm sure you guys remember how I said I was writing music for that new movie ‘The Fault in Our Stars’, yeah?” he asks. Harry and I nod. “Right. Well...there is a track in there. I actually wrote it quite awhile ago. And it's about you.”

    Silence.

    “Guys? Did you hear me?” Ed asks, a look of concern on his face. I shake my head and blink rapidly a few times, focusing myself.

    “Yeah. Yeah sorry, mate. We’re here. Uh just didn't expect that. Can uhm...can we hear it?” I ask. Ed breaks into a grin again.

    “Yeah. I was going to email you the file. But then I decided I would so much rather see your faces when you hear it. So I can I play it for you? Like right now?” he asks. I look over at Harry and find him barely able to contain himself. Happiness is practically oozing from his pores.

    “Yes, please!” Harry giggles. The dimple game is strong today.

    “Cheers. Alright. Here we go,” Ed smiles. He grabs his acoustic and strums out a couple chords, testing the tuning. After a minor tweak, he begins.

 

_ “It's just another night _ __  
_ And I'm staring at the moon _ __  
_ I saw a shooting star _ __  
_ And thought of you _ __  
_ I sang a lullaby _ __  
_ By the waterside and knew _ __  
_ If you were here, _ __  
_ I'd sing to you _ __  
_ You're on the other side _ __  
_ As the skyline splits in two _ __  
_ I'm miles away from seeing you _ __  
_ I can see the stars _ __  
_ From America _ _  
_ __ I wonder, do you see them, too?”

 

    I smile at the lyrics. They're really beautiful. They make me think of a time when walking out to the beach with Harry was a daily occurrence. We'd walk out there, sit ourselves down in the warm sand, and we'd take turns serenading each other.

 

_ “So open your eyes and see _ __  
_ The way our horizons meet _ __  
_ And all of the lights will lead _ __  
_ Into the night with me _ __  
_ And I know these scars will bleed _ __  
_ But both of our hearts believe _ _  
_ __ All of these stars will guide us home”

 

    I look at Harry and find him staring right at me, his eyes welling up with tears. Such a sap. I throw an arm around his shoulders and pull him into my side. I kiss the side of his head and let my face rest there, buried in his curls.  _ Harry will always be home. _

 

_ “I can hear your heart _ __  
_ On the radio beat _ __  
_ They're playing 'Chasing Cars' _ __  
_ And I thought of us _ __  
_ Back to the time, _ __  
_ You were lying next to me _ __  
_ I looked across and fell in love _ __  
_ So I took your hand _ __  
_ Back through lamp lit streets I knew _ __  
_ Everything led back to you _ __  
_ So can you see the stars? _ _  
_ __ Over Amsterdam

_ You're the song my heart is _ _  
_ _ Beating to” _

 

    My jaw has fallen open and I'm holding my breath.  _ Chasing Cars...laying next to each other...Amsterdam… _

    I'm immediately thrown into a flashback and there's no hope in even holding onto the present.

  
  


_ “Where the fuck are you going?!” Harry screamed at me. His curls were an unruly mess and he was barely dressed. I stood there in our foyer, awkwardly holding one of my suitcases. _

_     “It's just a couple days, Harry. We both need space. I'll be back before you know it,” I soothed, though even I didn't believe it. Harry crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at me. _

_     “You keep running. Stop running,” he spat. I pinched the bridge of my nose. It had barely been a few weeks since Harry first asked me to marry him. And this is how it had went. Me running. And us fighting. Always yelling.  _

_     “I'm not running,” I pouted. I knew I was acting like a child. I just didn't care. Harry did though. _

_     “No? You're flying to another continent to get away from me! You're going on a trip by yourself to get away from me,” Harry shouted.  _

_     “It's not like that, Harry!” _

_     “Then invite me,” he demanded. Then I was stuck. I should have had the brains to think about my next words. But alas, I'm an idiot. And a dickhead. _

_     “I need to do this without you. I need to do it alone,” I told him. I watched as Harry fell apart in front of me. He turned to brace himself against the kitchen island while his body shook with sobs. _

_     “You need to go to the place we planned to visit together...alone. You have to go there without me. You're going to Amsterdam, the place I suggested for us. You're going there without me,” Harry said. He looked at me with teary green eyes. I silently nodded. “Are you even listening to yourself? Jesus Christ, Lou. What the fuck is happening?!” _

 

    I hadn't responded to him that night. Instead, I'd left without another word. Because I'm an asshole.

    I look at Harry again. We’re both in tears.

 

_ “So open your eyes and see _ __  
_ The way our horizons meet _ __  
_ And all of the lights will lead _ __  
_ Into the night with me _ __  
_ And I know these scars will bleed _ __  
_ But both of our hearts believe _ __  
_ All of these stars will guide us home _ __  
_ And, oh, I know _ __  
_ And oh, I know, oh _ __  
_ I can see the stars _ _  
_ __ From where we are”

 

    “From where we are,” I repeat. The Where We Are Tour. I close my eyes, letting tears slip out freely. Harry, I know, is a mess next to me.

    “For the movie and concerts, the last line with be ‘From America'. But this is the way it was originally written. For you guys,” Ed says. I stare at Harry's phone, just gazing at our friend.

    “It's amazing, Ed. Absolutely amazing,” I tell him. The ginger haired lad smiles brightly.

    “Glad you like it. Hey you've got to go on stage soon, yeah? Good luck! Can't wait to see you in Charlotte,” he smiles. We say goodbye and soon it's just us alone with Lux. 

    “That song…” Harry says, his voice trailing off. I take a deep breath.

    “Yeah,” I say. I'm at a total loss for what else to say. I need to apologize. But I don't even know where to begin. So I just jump. “I'm sorry. For Amsterdam. And everything else. I shouldn't have gone without you. That was supposed to be our place.”

    “It's okay. All the shit we've been through...it's lead us here. It doesn't matter where we are or where we go. You're my home,” Harry says. I lean forward, about to pull Harry in for a kiss, when Paul comes in. Harry and I jump away from each other. Paul stops and looks between us, questions in his eyes. But he doesn't go there.

    “Lights in five. You guys gatta go,” he says through gritted teeth. As if on cue, Lou swoops in to collect her daughter. And then we're off.

  
  
  


    It's later than night, during “Little Things”, that I come up with the most brilliant plan. A way to apologize and to say how much I love Harry all in one go. I smile to myself, impressed with my own idea. It's not often that I come up with something this brilliant. But ya know, it has to happen some times right?

    I spend the rest of the concert trying to focus but find it truly difficult when I have the most beautiful boy in the world dancing around me all night. And he's mine.

  
  


**June 20th, 2014 - Paris**

    “Tommo, relax. You gatta breathe, man,” Niall laughs, rubbing my back.

    “I know. But I can't. Everything needs to absolutely perfect and the most important part isn't here yet!” I whine, dropping my hands into my face.

    “It doesn't have to be absolutely perfect. It's the thought that counts, yeah?” Liam offers. I groan.

    “No no no. The thought isn't enough. The Amsterdam show is in four days,” I tell them even though they already know. It's all I've talked about for days.

    “Lou...give yourself a break. Ed said he would get it. It's going to be fine. The guy is gearing up for his own tour. If he steps away from his phone for a few moments, it's not the end of the world. He's going to get it, he'll meet us in Amsterdam. It'll be fine,” Liam says, clearly trying to knock some sense into me.

    “But what if it doesn't work?” I ask, my voice cracking. Liam and Niall give me soft looks. They each take one of my hands.

    “He knows, Lou. It'll work,” Niall says. I take a breath and try to tell myself that they're right. But believing it is easier said than done.

 

 

    The next day, I wake up feeling lighter. Last night's show was amazing. Paris is such an amazing city. I just wish we could experience more of it. With the tour schedule and the need to keep our relationship under wraps, getting away from security is next to impossible.

    “Babe? Have you seen my lavender jumper?” Harry asks from somewhere behind me. I turn around and see him rifling through one of his duffel bags on the floor. Harry is definitely the neatest one of the bunch. Except for when he's looking for something. Then he puts even my “organizational skills” to shame. Our poor hotel room seems to have fallen victim to Harry's searching method.

    “Uhm,” I hum, picking at the edge of the jumper I'm wearing.  _ His _ jumper, to be exact. The lavender one.

    “Uhm isn't really an answer, Lou. I asked if you've seen it. Uhm isn't really a- ...oh,” Harry says, finally looking at me. He gives me a very dimply, lopsided grin. “You're wearing it.”

    “Mhmm,” I respond quietly. I love this jumper. It's big and warm and makes me feel small in a way that I actually enjoy. The sleeves fall well past my fingertips and the bottom hem almost covers my bum.

    “I really like when you wear my clothes,” Harry says. I use the toes of one foot to scratch the back of my opposite calm. I'm nervous. I don't know why I am. I've really got no reason to be. I have a request. But it's not weird. Or out of the ordinary. So I don't know why in being so ridiculous. 

    “I like them. I uhm...I’ve got on more than just the jumper. Stuff that's yours, that is,” I tell him. Harry looks down at my legs, finding a pair of jeans that are definitely mine. Actually, speaking of, I really need to let Harry decide my food for awhile because I could barely get my ass into these jeans. My sweet tooth is killing all of my jeans.

    “Well these are definitely yours,” Harry says, hooking his index fingers each in a belt loop. He uses the hold to drag me against his body. “So I wonder what else you might be hiding.”

    I can't help the shivers that race up and down my spine.

    “Why don't you see for yourself?” I suggest. I look up at Harry through my eyelashes, trying to contain the blush I know is spreading over my face. Harry cradles my face between his hands as he searches my eyes.

    “You're shy. Why are you shy?” he asks, a touch of concern in his tone. I shake my head, smiling.

    “Not shy. Just a little nervous,” I admit. Harry cocks his head to the side in a ridiculously adorable way.

    “Why are you nervous?” he asks, his fingers moving to the button of my jeans. My breath catches, making Harry smile more.

    “Keep going and you'll see,” I whisper, not because I want to be quiet but because I've almost completely lost my voice. Harry kisses my forehead. With expert fingers, Harry unbuttons the jeans and unzips them. He pulls the denim down just enough to reveal the first surprise underneath.

    “Those,” Harry says, sliding his thumbs over the lace material adorning my hips. “Are definitely mine.”

    I gulp and nod my head. I close my eyes.

    “There's more,” I tell him. I hear Harry chuckle as he carefully, and achingly slowly, peels the skin tight jeans down my legs. I bite my bottom lip as he pulls them down farther. He suddenly stops just above my knees.

    “Tell me you are really wearing matching stockings,” Harry says, his voice low and husky with desire.

    “I'm really wearing matching stockings,” I confirm. Harry leans forward and kisses the top of the garment on each leg. More shivers.

    “I approve of your choice in colour. It's very contradictory,” Harry chuckles. He kneels in front of me to finish peeling off my jeans. He helps me step out of them. “It almost makes me believe you really are innocent.”

    I stand there in front of Harry, all nervous and self conscious. His lavender jumper, pink lacy panties, and matching sheer pink stockings with pink lace elastics at the tops. There's even a little white bow on the front of each stocking - further adding to the “innocent” facade.

    “There's more,” I say, watching his face. Harry looks confused. He looks me over from head to toe, studying my feet, before his head snaps up. His eyes are wide and his pupils nearly swallow the mossy green.

    “Turn around,” Harry instructs. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth again and do as I'm told. I face away from Harry and bend just slightly at my waist. “Put your hands against the wall.”

    I put my hands up and let my body lean against the hard surface. I'm thankful for the hotel room’s dim lighting considering my face must be the shade of a tomato.

     Harry grabs the panties and pulls them down just enough to confirm his suspicion: Harry's favourite sparkly butt plug. It's not my favourite thing in the world. But I had a thought it might drive Harry wild. It seems to work.

    Harry gently nips at the back of my thigh, making me go weak in my knees. Before I can formulate a complete thought, Harry is spinning me around and scooping me up bridal style. He carries me the short distance to our bed and lays me down. He crawls over me and rucks up the lavender jumper. Harry drops feather light kisses over my belly and up my chest. He pauses only momentarily to skip over the bunched up material and then attaches his mouth to my collarbone.

    “Harry,” I whine. He sucks a mark into the skin just below my throat. Harry's hands capture mine and pin me to the bed. I use my legs to grip his waist and drag his body against mine. I feel Harry smile against my mouth.

    “I've dreamed about this, you know,” he says. Harry releases my hands so he can grab my thighs. He rolls us over so I'm on top and straddling his hips. I grind down on his already prominent erection. The friction jostles the plug and I can't help but moan. I reach to take off the jumper but Harry stops me. “Leave it on. Please...I've thought about this. Making love to you when you're wearing my jumper.”

    “And the panties?” I ask mischievously. Harry smiles and stretches up to kiss me.

    “Yep. Complete with the stockings. Though I'll admit, the panties don't usually stay on this long in my daydreams,” he teases.

    “Well take them off then,” I giggle. I actually  _ giggle _ . Like schoolgirl quality. In my head, I'm embarrassed. But on the outside, I roll with it.

    “I want you to get off the bed, turn away from me, and slowly take off the panties. Bend over when you do it. Then come back to me,” Harry says. He's not necessarily trying to be seductive. But he achieves it anyway.

    I scramble off the bed and get to my feet. I slowly turn away from my fiance and take a moment to pull up the back of the jumper a bit, giving Harry a full view of my ass in his panties. I can only imagine how it looks. I may be smaller than Harry but my bum definitely is not. The lace stretches over my body in a way that makes me blush. I use my thumbs to grab a hold of the flimsy material and pull them down, bending over as I do. Inch by inch, I bend and undress until I'm completely bare and presented to Harry. Oh, I’m also rock hard with a leaking tip. There’s that.

    I hear the curly haired boy sigh and swear. Smiling to myself, I get brave and toss the panties onto Harry's chest. Without hesitation, Harry grabs them, to be them to his nose, and inhales.  _ Jeeeeesuuuuuuuus _ .

    Keeping on task, I crawl back onto the bed and up Harry's body, stopping to let my bum graze over his still clothed cock. Even with his own jeans and boxers in the way, I can feel his arousal. It's intoxicating.

    I lean down so my mouth is next to Harry's ear.

    “I want to feel you inside me,” I whisper.

    “Undress me.”

    I scoot down his body to unbutton Harry's jeans. My fingers are nervous and it must show because Harry softly grabs my hands and tells me to relax. So I do. I take a breath and relax as my fingers finally undo the button and then his zipper. Harry is also a fan of impossibly tight skinny jeans so I have to shift completely off of him to pull them off. But on the upside, his boxer briefs come off at the same time. Harry pushes himself up to lean against the headboard.

    I climb back onto Harry's lap, Harry's large hands gripping my thighs. I roll my hips forward, rubbing our naked cocks together.

    “Please...touch me,” I beg. I'm trying to contain my smile so as to not spoil the surprise. I feel one of Harry's hands reach around to the plug. I expect him to pull it out but instead, he pushes it in slightly. The unexpected pressure force a moan out of my throat.

    “Mmm you like that, baby? You like when I push it in?” Harry asks, his voice rough again. Harry tugs the plug out only slightly and then pushes it back in. Be repeats the action a few times. I wrap my arms around Harry's neck for balance.

    “More,” I whine. Harry chuckles and buries his face in my neck. He tugs on the plug again, teasing me. The butterflies in my stomach feel more like bees now as I'm practically buzzing with anticipation. I whine again, wiggling my bum around.

    “You're very impatient this today,” Harry points out. I keep all wise ass comments to myself in hopes that Harry takes the plug out soon. Choosing to give him one last tease, I gather my voice. 

    “There's more,” I tell him. Harry stills. “There's one more surprise.”

    “Yeah?” he says, clearly confused.

    “Pull it out,” I tell him. Harry's fingers grip the plug and pull out. This part I’d practiced. Harry's fingers gently rub over my puckered rim and he gasps. 

    “Lou, you're soaked,” he says, still not understanding.. I use my hand to pump Harry's cock a couple times before lining him up with my entrance. I let my muscles relax and can't help but suck in a breath. A rush of warm lube leaks out of my hole, coating Harry's cock. Harry immediately groans, “oh fuck.”

    I ease myself down onto Harry's cock, amazed with myself and how I managed to get all of this to work. Trying to fill yourself with lube and then get a plug situated without making a huge mess is quite the feat. It’s also one that I did not accomplish. I don’t want to talk about how many towels that took to control.

    When I'm fully seated, I let my head fall back. I moan, lift myself up a bit, and sink back down.

    “You feel so good. So big,” I whimper. Harry's large hands grab my hips and help guide me as I ride his cock.

    “Fuck, baby. You're so perfect. So good for me,” Harry groans. I preen under his praise, happy that I can do this for the boy I love.

    I continue riding him until Harry switches things up. Harry shifts me so I'm off his lap. Then, he pushes me down onto the bed so I'm on my hands and knees. Harry sinks back into me with no warning.

    “Oh fuck. A little warning would have been nice,” I hiss at him. Harry responds by shoving my chest down into the mattress. He grabs my hips again, this time holding me so my bum is up in the air. I suck in a breath as Harry sets a punishing pace. It's rough and fast and very unlike Harry. And I love it.

    I reach a hand down to grab my dick, stroking myself lazily while Harry fucks me into oblivion. Or maybe submission. Either way, I become completely pliant underneath him.

    “Can I cum on your face?” Harry rasps.  _ Well that's new. And hot. _

    “Yes, please,” I gasp as Harry's hips thrust forward at just the right angle. A few more, and I'm shouting Harry's name and spilling over the sheets.

    “That's it. Cum for me, baby,” Harry encourages.

    “Fuuuuuuck,” I moan. I ride out my high and have to fight to keep my bum in place for Harry. Thankfully, Harry is chasing his own release right behind me.

    The curly haired boy pulls out and flips me over, crawling over me. With only a few quick pumps of his hand, Harry cums all over my face. Thick white ropes erupt from his cock and splatter over my skin, sticking to my lips and eyelashes. I stick my tongue out and lick over the mess on my mouth.

    “This has to be the hottest thing I've ever seen,” Harry pants. “You trust me?”

    “Is that even a real question?” I scoff. Harry chuckles and tells me not to move. I watch as he reaches over, grabs his phone, and then aims the camera at my face. Then he changes his angle. He stands up on the bed.

    “Get on your knees, hands on your thighs, and keep your head down,” Harry instructs. I do as I'm told. I hear the click of his phone's camera. “Good. Now keep the same position but tilt your head up. Look at me? Perfect.”

    Harry snaps another photo. Then he smiles to himself.

    “You finished?” I ask. Harry flops down onto the mattress while I go to the bathroom to clean up. I carefully take Harry’s jumper off, maneuvering it to keep away from my cum-covered face. Then, I take my time washing up and let myself enjoy the water against my skin. When I’m done and dry, I grab the jumper, pull it on, and climb back into bed next to Harry. Seeing my phone lighting up with a notification, I grab it. Then my stomach flips over.

**New text message from: Hazza♡**

    “Looks like you've got a picture message,” he says, a cheeky grin plastered to his face. With A sigh, a open the message. And there it is. A picture of me looking incredibly submissive. Kneeling for Harry and clearly covered in cum. 

    But it's also a group chat message. And my phone is blowing up.

**Nialler: Like I said, kinky fuckers.**

**Payno: Is that really necessary, Haz?**

**Z: Oh boy.**

**Nialler: Submission looks good on you, Tommo.**

**Hazza♡: I agree ;)**

**Me: Fuck you all.**

**Hazza♡: I already did that.**

**Nialler: Lou bottomed?!**

**Me: Fuck. All. Of. You.**

**Payno: Didn't think you had it in ya, Lou.**

**Payno: Ha ha. See what I did there?**

**Me: I thought stupid jokes were Harry's forte?**

**Hazza♡: Heeeeeeey :(**

**Payno: Hey :(**

**Nialler: I love your jokes, baby. Even if they are stupid.**

**Payno: Oi! Who's side are you on?!**

**Me: Mine obviously.**

**Hazza♡: I'll take your side, Leeyum.**

**Z: I'm going back to sleep.**

**Nialler: That's boring :P**

**Hazza♡: Yeah. C'mon, stay up with us.**

**Niall: Yeah! What could be better than talking with your mates?**

**Z: Well if you must know. I now need a wank and while some of us are “kinky fuckers”, I'm morally opposed to wanking while texting my band mates. So goodnight.**

**Niall: LMFAO. Fair enough. Night, mate.**

 

    I see Zayn’s number pull out of the group message.

 

**Payno: Speaking of wanks...when the fuck are you gonna be back, Ni?**

**Nialler: Like five minutes. And what does that have to do with wanking?**

**Me: I was just gonna ask the same thing.**

**Payno: Well, I'm fucking rock hard and if Niall is going to be back soon, I'll suck it up and wait. But if he's not, I'll take care of it now.**

**Nialler: You're so impatient. I left to go get food for YOU.**

**Hazza♡: See now we know you're lying.**

**Nialler: Shut it.**

 

    I chuckle and toss my phone down onto the floor, ready to ignore it for the rest of the night. Just as I'm rolling over and on the brink of sleep, I remember that I still haven't heard from Ed.

    I end up not sleeping very much.

  
  


**June 24th, 2014 - Amsterdam**

**Zayn’s POV**

 

    “Louis, if you don't calm down, I'm seriously going to deck ya,” Niall says, annoyance dripping from his words. The caramel haired boy had been bouncing around the dressing room like a ping pong ball for the last hour.

    “I can't! I'm freakin’ out. Ed was supposed to be here an hour ago. Where is he?” Louis wails. I get up from my seat on the couch and walk over to my friend, placing my hands on his shoulders and forcing him to sit down in the middle of the floor.

    “You're driving us all crazy. If you don't chill out, Harry is gonna know something's up. You have a shit poker face, Tommo. You seriously need to find something to occupy yourself. Why don't we go steal a golf buggy or something,” I suggest. Normally, my fellow troublemaker would be all over it. Not today apparently.

    “I can't go anywhere. I need to be ready when Ed shows,” Louis huffs. As if our prayers have been answered, the door to the dressing room is thrown open and in walks Mr. Sheeran himself.

    “It's about fucking time,” Liam chuckles. We all watch fondly as Louis launches himself into the ginger’s arms.

    “Jeeez. ‘s good to see you too, Lou,” Ed huffs as he catches the smaller boy. Louis pulls away and immediately socks Ed in the arm. “Ow! The fuck is that for?!”

    “For falling off the face of the planet! I had no idea if you were really coming!” Louis shouts. Ed sighs and rolls his eyes.

    “You've got to be the most dramatic person I know,” Ed chuckles. Louis scowls but doesn't protest. He really has no argument.

    “Regardless, we've got work to do. Let's go,” Louis growls, grabbing Ed’s hand and dragging him out of the dressing room.

    “I don't know how he's still sane. He worries himself over the smallest shit,” Liam says, his eyes scanning over a Batman comic.

    “Well I can see it. This is sort of a huge thing for them. It's like all emotional. Lou doesn't do great with emotional. This took a lot of work on his part,” I point out. Being Lou's best mate, I've seen every side of him. Throughout the last couple years, I've seen it all. The good, the awful, the ridiculous, and now...the desperate. Lou is absolutely desperate to apologize to Harry on a way that Harry will never forget. I understand where he's coming from. But the guy needs to chill.

    “I know it's a big deal. But like stressing out over Ed showing up was silly. Of course Ed showed up,” Liam says. He's not getting it.

    “Pretend for a moment that you've got a massive surprise for Niall. The time and place are crucial. You need everything to fall into exactly the right place. And the entire success is dependent on another person showing up at the right time. How stressed out would you be?” I ask. Liam’s eyes leave his comic and flick over to me. He has a strange look on his face that I can't quite place. I briefly consider trying to analyze it. But I don't have the energy. 

    “I suppose you're right,” Liam says simply. I open my mouth to continue but I'm cut off by the dressing room door opening again.

    “Alright, Lou I finally fou-.....where's Lou?” Harry asks, his arms full of food items. I make a show of looking around the small room.

    “Dunno, mate. Thought he was with you,” I tell him. Harry's face drops into a scowl.

    “No. He sent me on this epic adventure to find a particular kind of grapes. Told me not to come back until I found them. And I found them. And he's not here. Fuckin’ twat,” Harry swears, dropping onto the couch with a huff.

    “Wait...he told you to go find cotton candy flavoured grapes. You found them? They exist?” Niall asks, clearly intrigued.

    “Of course I did,” Harry beams, brandishing a box of the curious grapes. Grapes that I thought for sure Louis was making up.

    “Oh. Well nice work, Haz,” I chuckle. Niall leans over, his curious eyes falling on the box of grapes.

    “Don't even think about it, Irish. You don't want to know all the hoops I had to jump through to get these damn things,” Harry warns. Niall frowns and slumps back into the couch. Next to me, I see my phone light up with a notification.

    Yet another text from Doniya.

  
  


**Harry's POV**

    “No, I'm serious. You can't tell Harry about this. He would kill me,” Lou says in a rush. I was about to exit the dressing room in an after to find my other half when his words stopped me dead in my tracks. I kept the door cracked just enough to hear out in the hallway.

    “I think kill is a bit much. You know Harry. It's not in his nature,” Josh says.  _ The fuck is Louis up to. _

    “Trust me. I know him. If he found out, he'd kill me. Give me some of that water. I can't swallow pills dry,” Louis says. Anger flashes through my body at the thought of my fiance taking drugs, especially after he gave me such a hard time about the weed brownies. I puff out my chest, ready to confront both of them. And then Josh speaks up.

    “I can't believe you've managed to keep it a secret. I gatta say, I'm impressed,” Josh says. I hold my place and strain my hearing, hoping to catch what this is all really about.

    “He's almost found out a couple times. But each time I had a lie prepared to deter him. He's too curious for his own good,” Louis chuckles. Hot tears gather in my eyes and I feel like I may be sick. I'm vaguely aware of Niall standing near me and asking what's wrong. I use my hand to silently shush him.

    “No kidding. Well I'm glad that's over. Now you can relax and stop worrying about him finding out. Must be a weight off your shoulders,” Josh says. Louis sighs deeply.

    “Oh you have no idea. I've been so on edge. I'm so glad this is the end of it,” Louis says. And just like that, my heart breaks.  _ How could I be so stupid?! Of course he doesn't want to marry me. _

    “Haz? What's wrong?” Niall asks, his hand gripping my shoulder.

    “Louis is talking to Josh. He's been lying to me,” I cry quietly. Panic flashes over Niall features. It takes me a moment to catch on, but when I do, the anger in me is renewed. “You knew? You know what's going on? You knew he was lying to me and you didn't tell me?!”

    “Harry, it's not like that,” Liam says, jumping in. I whirl around to face him.

    “You too?! Did everyone know except me?” I shout. I turn to Zayn. “Did you know too?”

    “Haz, relax. This isn't what you think it is. It's nothing bad. Just trust us. It's nothing bad,” Niall practically pleads.

    “Trust you? TRUST YOU?! YOU'VE ALL BEEN LYING TO ME!” I shout at them. Niall winces at the volume but I don't falter. “Fuck you. You guys know what we've been through and you didn't tell me.”

    “Harry, sit down and shut up,” Zayn says, grabbing me. He shoves me down onto the couch despite my pathetic attempts to smack him. “Listen to me. He's not lying in that sense. He has a surprise for you. We've all been working on it for a couple weeks. You have to relax and trust us. I wouldn't lie to you.”

    That throws me off. I sit there and look at each of my friends, trying to gauge the truthfulness of Zayn’s words. They don't contradict him.

    “It's a surprise? He's not cheating on me or anything?” I ask calmly. Zayn visibly relaxes at my quieter tone.

    “No, he’s not cheating on you. It’s just a surprise. He's been worrying himself silly for the last few hours. He sent you to get those grapes so you'd not be here when the surprise got here. You've just got to trust us,” Liam explains. I feel myself relax a bit. Surely they're telling the truth. I highly doubt Louis could get the entire band to lie for him.

    “Okay. So when is this surprise supposed to happen?” I ask, allowing a sliver of excitement to shine through my words. Niall picks up on it and throws his head back laughing.

    “There's our Hazza. Alright, now calm down. Lights are in ten,” Liam chuckles. And then they all get up and leave me. Just like that.

    I take a deep breath to steady myself. And then I follow my bandmates.  
  


 

    As usual, the show is going smoothly. We flow through our setlist, talk to the fans, and then it's time for “Little Things". It's become my favourite song to do live simply because even after all this time, my lyric changes still make Louis blush. And what a sight that is.

    I go to take my seat on the runway as Niall fiddles with his acoustic but Liam stops me from sitting. He holds his mic away from his mouth.

    “Watch the screens,” Liam says. I turn and look at the giant screens we perform in front of and see they're dark. Then, when Niall starts to play his guitar, little pieces of light show up. They look like random white dots and for a moment, I think that maybe the screen is broken.  _ That would suck _ .

    But as more dots show up, I realize what I'm looking at. It's stars. The screen is a giant picture of the night sky.

    Zayn's opening verse pulls my attention back to the song. I sit there, ready to focus, but Liam points again. At the bottom of the largest screen, there's a small caption. “All of the Stars - Amsterdam” followed by a date and time. I cock my head to the side, trying to understand. Thankfully, Liam leans back in to clarify. 

  
    “It's what the night sky looked like over Amsterdam the night he was here without you. He wanted you to see it. You saw the stars over America. He saw them over Amsterdam. But they're the same stars. And they'll always guide you home. You'll always see them no matter where you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked the update! As always, comments and kudos are much appreciated!
> 
> For those of you with questions about Zayn, hold on until the next chapter :)
> 
> Also, if any of you have been impacted by the hurricanes or the unthinkable violence in Las Vegas, I'm so sorry. My heart goes out to you.
> 
> All the love,  
> Aria ♡


	25. Follow You Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooooo I suck at keeping up with updates. I'm sorry. But this chapter is like...75% smut. And we switch it up a bit. So you're welcome.

**Chapter 25: Follow You Down**

**Zayn’s POV**

 

    “I'm telling you, this is a bad idea. Like...a _really_ bad idea,” Liam cautions despite none of us listening.

    “Lighten up, Li. This will be fun. We all deserve to relax,” Niall points out as he cracks open another beer.

    “Sure. But do we need to get smashed while out in public in the process?” Liam questions. Niall hands him the beer and then passes me one as well. I take a long pull.

    “Yes,” I answer. Liam’s eyes settle on me. He seems to accept my answer because the next thing I know, Liam is chugging his beer. He sucks the entire thing down, shakes his head, and looks at us.

    “What?” he asks when he sees the look of surprise on our faces.

    “Nothing. That just...took way less time to convince you than I anticipated,” I admit. Liam shrugs his shoulders but it doesn’t sit well with me. _That was way too easy._ Between the ease of convincing and the rate at which he consumed that beer, I’m slightly worried.

    “Stranger things have happened,” he mumbles. Liam grabs another beer and then goes to sit on the couch, pulling Niall with him.

    “Where are Tommo and Haz?” I wonder out loud. Niall snorts in laughter.

    “Last I heard, they were ‘getting dressed’ in their room. But that was like half an hour ago. And they sounded way too out of breath to be putting clothes _on_ ,” Niall chuckles. A tug of arousal pulls at my stomach. I probably shouldn’t be so turned on by the concept of my best mates fucking. But I am.

    “Are you uncomfortable or turned on?” Liam asks, breaking me from my thoughts. I immediately start to fish mouth.

    “It’s written all over your face, mate,” Niall points out, causing my cheeks to warm. I go back to drinking my beer. _Clearly this night is going to require more alcohol than I anticipated._

 

    Two hours later, it’s still just the three of us. Only difference now is that we’re all wasted. Apparently the three of us can put away a lot of alcohol if we’re properly motivated.

    “Have you ever thought about them? Like joining them, I mean?” Liam asks, revisiting the topic of our suspiciously absent bandmates. Niall sighs heavily.

    “Why do you always pose questions like that when I’m wearing impossibly tight skinny jeans. Honestly,” the blonde grumbles, his words slurring just a bit. Liam and I share a hearty laugh at our friend’s misfortune.

    “Real talk though...I’ve thought about it,” I tell them. Niall freezes and looks at me.

    “Really?”

    I nod and take another sip of my beer.

    “Yeah,” I awkwardly fill the space. The three of us sit there and stare at each other. I expect any one of us to crack and burst out laughing. Like maybe this is all a joke. But it doesn’t happen. Instead, Liam - the ever level headed leader - throws me and Niall for a loop.

    “On a scale of never to definitely, how likely is it that they would let us join?” he asks. Again, silence settles over the small space of Liam and Niall’s hotel room. Before any of us can respond, Louis comes barreling into the room.

    “Ah. See you lads started without us. Alright. Well let’s go then!” Louis shouts, motioning for us to follow him. Thankful for the diversion, I leap to my feet, (only swaying a little bit), and follow everyone out of the room.

    “What’s the name of this club?” Liam asks as we pile into the lift.

    “I have no idea. Paul just arranged it. Place needs good promo or something. Paddy and Preston are meeting us in the lobby,” Harry answers. He fusses with his hair, trying to contain the curls. But the effort is wasted.

    “Baby, you look fine,” Louis assures him. Harry makes an unconvinced sound and pats down his hair a final time. Louis leans forward and pushes his chest against Harry’s back, “I’m just going to mess it up again anyways.”

    Everyone laughs as Harry’s cheeks instantly redden.

    “Are you going to be able to behave yourself while we’re out?” Harry asks as the lift reaches the lobby. Louis grabs Harry's hips and grinds against his ass. Then, he moves away quickly just as the doors slide open. Chuckling, Liam throws an arm around Harry’s shoulders.

    “When has Tommo ever behaved?”

 

    The club is busier than I expect. Within moments of stepping inside, we're separated. Liam, Louis, and I are sent to the VIP floor with Paddy while Harry and Niall are told to “mingle" while Preston keeps an eye on them.

    “It must be frustrating to always be pulled away from Harry,” Liam shouts over the music. Louis leads us over to the bar and orders a round of shots.

    “You have no idea. The worst part though is now, things are different. I've always been concerned. But now...we've both been through so much shit. I can handle myself. The alcohol and the rumours - I can handle that shit. But it really gets to Haz,” Louis explains. I watch as the bartender mixes our drinks and then pours each of us a shot of tequila.

    “It's always tequila,” I chuckle, grabbing one of the shots. Louis and Liam follow suit, toasting each other. I lift my glass and then pound the shot. The familiar burn washes down my throat - a welcome distraction to the usual noise inside my head.

    “I'm more of a coke and Bacardi type myself. But can't really complain when the alcohol is free huh?” Liam laughs. We each grab a drink off the bar, tip the bartender, and make our way over to a booth.

    “You said that it really gets to Haz?” I ask. “How so?”

    “Did you guys know he started using weed?” Louis asks, looking between me and Liam. Liam’s jaw nearly hits the floor and I feel like I may be sick. _Our Hazza? Our happy-go-lucky Harry? How?_

    “What? I’ve never seen him smoke in my life. He never smells like it,” Liam says. Louis tosses back another shot and shakes his head.

    “Not smoking it. Baking with it. He put it in brownies. After...after I left, he couldn’t sleep. He told me he was having difficulty sleeping so he bought the weed but didn’t know how to smoke it so he put it in brownies. I asked Paddy about it. Apparently Harry asked Paddy and Paul about getting him sleep aids because the nightmares were that bad. They were keeping him up. He was afraid to go to sleep so he’d be up for days at a time. And then when the sleep aids didn’t work, he used the weed. Guys...he used from the time I left until I found the brownies in our fridge,” Louis explains.

    “What? You mean you found them while you were moving your stuff?” I ask, terrified for the truth.

    “No, when you guys dropped us off at the house and we made up. We were out in the pool. The brownies were in the fridge in the pool house. There was a lot. And I found some in the freezer out there. Some in the freezer in the house. And a bag with a couple stuffed in his night stand,” Louis tells us.

    “Shit,” I sigh. We all lean back in the booth, letting the information sink in.

    “Enough heavy shit. We’re supposed to be having fun. We can talk about the drama tomorrow, yeah?” Louis asks, clearly desperate to change the subject despite him bringing it up.

    “Agreed. We all deserve to have a bit of fun,” Liam agrees. Louis flags down a waitress walking by and orders each of us two shots and another mixed drink. And that’s how three members of One Direction got shit faced.

  


    “I’m going to the bathroom and then we’re leaving,” I decide. It’s been approximately three hours since we entered the club and we’re all gone. Not buzzed. Not even just drunk. We’re _gone_.

    “Good call,” Louis hiccups. We walk over to the edge of the VIP floor so we can look down onto the mass of dancing bodies below. Louis and Liam start to tense up next to me when we can’t see the other two members of our band. It’s actually me that finally spots them.

    “Uhm...guys?” I shout over the music. Liam and Louis both look at me before I point, gesturing towards the floor. Tucked away in a corner, are Harry and Niall. Niall has Harry pressed up against a wall, his knee between Harry’s thighs.

    “What...is that?” I ask. Liam chuckles and shakes his head. I open my mouth to ask what could possibly be so funny but my breath is taken away when Niall spins Harry around and roughly shoves him against the wall. Niall’s hand reaches up to grip Harry’s hair, pulling his head back sharply. Niall’s mouth descends on Harry’s neck. _Well shit_.

    “Lou, you go sort that mess while Z and I hit the bathroom. Meet at the side exit with Paddy and Preston,” Liam instructs. I consider making a comment about not needing help to wee but I decide against it. I let Liam grab my arm and begin towing me in the way of the bathrooms, passing Paddy as we go. Paddy gives Liam a smirk and shakes his head.

    We enter the bathroom and I’m happy to find it’s empty. I don’t actually have to go but I’m notorious for thinking I’m fine and then making Paddy pull over halfway back to the hotel so I can wee.

    “So what’s the deal with Ni and Har-”

    My question is cut off my Liam’s body slamming into mine. He pins me to the wall and his lips are on mine before I can even think twice about it. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull myself up into his arms. Liam’s hands grip the backs of my thighs as he crushes our bodies together.

    “Fuck. I’ve missed you,” Liam practically growls.

    He nips at my lower lip, sucking it into his mouth. A moan escapes my throat and I feel all self control slipping away. But then, it seems to come rushing back all at once. I rip my face away from Liam.

    “What are you doing? You’re with Niall. You _left me_ for Niall,” I say, scrambling out of Liam’s arms. He lets me down but he doesn’t let me go. He keeps me close to his chest, cradling my face in his hands.

    “Niall knows,” he says, leaning in to kiss me. I turn my face, making him kiss my cheek instead.

    “What do you mean Niall knows? Niall knows what?” I stumble, some syllables slurring together. All of a sudden, I feel very _very_ drunk.

    “I mean,” Liam starts as his fingers move to the front of my jeans, fumbling with the buttons. “That Niall knows. Niall knows about this. We agreed he’d go after Harry and I would go after you.”

    Now my head is spinning. And not just from the alcohol.

    “Why?”

    “All the talk of joining Lou and Haz...that’s not the first time that Niall and I have talked about it. He wants to join them. He wants more and I’m willing to give it to him. But that means I get what I want too. And I want you,” Liam says, his voice thick with arousal. Rather than fall at his feet - which I’m sure Liam expects - I push him away from me.

    “So you just get to decide? You get to make me fall in love with you, cheat on me, leave me for Niall, flaunt your relationship in front of me, and then randomly decide to tell me you want me again?! Fuck you, Liam,” I spit, anger flaring throughout my body. Liam launches himself at me again but this time, into my arms. I catch him, holding onto his arms so he doesn’t fall.

    “You can fuck me if you want. I’ll bottom for you,” Liam offers, swaying on his feet slightly. Everything seems to stand still for a moment. Liam. Willing to bottom for me. Something he never offered and adamantly avoided while we were together.

_I think it means that we've been lost._

    I know it’s all the alcohol. I know we’re on the brink of very bad choices. I know that we’ll likely both regret this in the morning. But the truth of it is...I miss him.

_Maybe one last time is all we need._

    I miss Liam’s hands on my body. I miss the way he used to move over my skin, leaving lingering kisses across my torso. The love bites on my chest. His breath hot against the back of my neck as he fucked me into the mattress.

_I can't really help it._

    I spin us around, pushing Liam face first into the wall. He grunts as his chest makes contact, undoubtedly surprised at the force. I unbutton and unzip my jeans, pushing them down just far enough. I hook my fingers in the sides of Liam’s jeans and tug them down. Then I lean forward so my mouth is next to his ear.

    “You want to bottom for me?” I rasp. Liam tilts his head to the side, whining. He pushes his bum back against my erection.

    “Please,” he begs. My hands settle on his hips, gripping hard enough to leave bruises.

    “You want my cock that bad? You’re gonna bottom for me? In a club bathroom? How desperate are you?” I taunt. Liam grumbles something unintelligible. I pull one of my hands away and deliver a hard smack to his bum. I watch as his cheek jiggles just enough to be enticing. Liam groans as I smooth my hand over the pink area. “Behave yourself.”

    “Yes, sir,” Liam says without missing a beat. Never thought I’d see the day that Liam Payne is submissive.

    “Good boy,” I praise. Liam’s entire body seems to hum under my words. I feel him shift around a bit as he reaches into the pocket of his bunched up jeans. He produces a small bottle of lube and I think my heart kicks into overdrive. Wordlessly, Liam holds it up over his shoulder for me. I grab it, flick it open, and coat two of my fingers. I don’t waste any time. I reach down and brush my fingers over Liam’s hole. Small whimpers fill the bathroom.

    “Baby, please. More,” Liam whines. I dip a single finger into his hole, pushing gently. Liam’s head falls back onto my shoulder with a moan. I work my finger in and out until he’s relaxed enough for another. I push them in and scissor them open, slowly pulling Liam apart.

    Sooner than I expect, Liam is flushed and sweaty, begging for me. His hair is a mess from where I’ve tugged on it. Bruises are blossoming across his neck where I couldn’t resist sucking on his sweet skin.

    “You want my cock?” I ask, slowly dragging my fingers out of him. Liam groans at the loss of contact and nods his head. “Use your words, baby.”

    “Yes, Z. Please. Want you inside me,” Liam says in a rush of pleas and sighs. He pushes back against my body. I feel my cock slip against his lubed cheeks, making me shiver. I squeeze more lube onto my shaft - probably more than necessary. But I don’t want to hurt him. As angry as I am...I don’t actually want to hurt him.

    “Spread your legs and lean forward, baby,” I instruct. Liam does as he’s told without argument and braces his arms against the graffitied wall. I guide the head of my cock to his entrance and then push in gently. Liam sucks in a breath, holds it, and then lets it out as he pushes back towards me. I pull out only fractionally before I push back in all the way.

    “Fuck,” he moans. With my cock buried deep in Liam’s ass, I grab his hips and grind forward. “Fuck me, Z. Please.”

    “Love to hear you beg,” I tell him, keeping him pinned to the wall. I pull out and push back in, setting a punishing pace. Every thrust throws Liam forward into the wall, eliciting the most delicious moans from my friend.

    “Want you to cum in me,” Liam says between moans. I reach up and grab his shoulder, using the hold as leverage.

    “Oh yeah? You want me to cum inside you and then make you walk out of here like nothing happened? Just so we can go join the boys? You can walk with them out to the car...feeling my hot cum dripping out of you. I wonder if Paddy will be able to tell. You used to look so good after fucking me. I bet you’ll look even better now. All flushed and pretty,” I say, fucking into him harder. I can feel my orgasm approaching quickly but I want Liam to get off first. “Come on, baby. Cum for me.”

    “Can I touch myself?” Liam asks, breathless.

    “No,” I growl. I reach around him and grab onto his cock. I pump my fist in time with my thrusts. Only a few moments later, Liam starts begging.

    “I’m gonna cum. Please let me cum. Please.”

    “You think you’ve earned it? Have you been a good boy?”

    This makes Liam pause. For a moment, I think I’ve gone too far. But then Liam finds his words again.

    “No, I’ve not been a good boy. Punish me.”

    My mouth goes completely dry.

    “You’ve been good, Li. Cum for me,” I encourage, speeding up my strokes of his cock. Liam shakes his head.

    “I need to be punished,” he insists. And then I have an idea.

    “You want to be punished?” I ask. Liam nods his head, refusing to look over his shoulder at me. “I can do that. Colour out if it’s too much,” I instruct. I take my hand away from Liam’s cock and focus on getting myself off. It’s pretty easy. Just a few minutes later, I’m cumming hot and deep inside Liam’s ass. I bite onto his shoulder to keep from shouting. When I’m done, I carefully pull out and turn him around to face me. “You are not allowed to clean yourself up. Pull up your jeans. We’re going to meet up with the boys and then we’re going back to the buses and I’ll punish you more. In the meantime, remember your colours.”

    Liam visibly gulps. But he nods his head anyways.

 

**Liam’s POV**

  _“In the meantime, remember your colours.”_

    I tuck myself back into my jeans. I can feel Zayn’s cum dripping out of my ass and down the back of my thighs. Zayn asks if I understand the instructions.

    “Yes, sir,” I answer quickly. A smirk slides over Zayn’s mouth.

    “Good boy. Let’s go find our friends,” Zayn says. He leads the way out of the bathroom and we nearly collide with Paddy.

    “Watch yourself!” I joke with him out of habit. Then, right there in the middle of the club where anyone could see, Zayn’s smacks my bum. I see Paddy’s eyes widen before he covers them with his hand, swearing under his breath.

    “Behave,” Zayn warns.

    “Sorry, sir. I’ll behave,” I promise. Zayn walks away towards the front of the club with me following close behind.

    “Are you fighting or are you being punished?” Paddy asks just quiet enough that Zayn can’t hear. My cheeks flare up at the realization that Paddy knows something is up.

    “I’m being punished,” I answer just as quietly.

    “What happened to Niall?”

    “Apparently he is in on this.”

    “Oh, lord. It never ends. Just when I think the lot of you have finally calmed down and are going to stop causing mass chaos, you throw me a curveball. I should really know better by now,” Paddy chuckles. We make our way all the way out to the main entrance and meet up with the rest of our group.

    “Alright, lads. Let’s get a move on,” Zayn announces. Harry gives him a funny look but doesn’t say anything. Then Harry’s eyes fall on me. Nothing has even happened yet and I can already feel my cheeks growing warm.

    “Alright, Li?” Louis asks, a knowing smirk plastered to his face. I open my mouth to fire back but Zayn catches it.

    “Tread carefully,” he warns. I swallow my comeback and fight the urge to roll my eyes as Louis tips his head back and laughs.

    “Someone got owned,” the Doncaster lad teases. _Do not say a word, Payno. You’ll only make it worse for yourself. Not a word._

    My mental pep talk serves me well. I’m able to keep myself out of trouble the entire ride back to the buses. As we climb out of the SUV, Zayn grabs a hold of my elbow, directing me towards Bus One.

    “You did well. Do you still need to be punished?” he asks, his lips just a breath away from my ear.

    “Yes, please,” I whisper. Zayn nods and motions toward the bus.

    “Alright. Go in and we’ll be there in a minute. I want you to take off everything except your underwear and wait quietly in your bunk,” Zayn says. I nod and quickly scramble onto the bus. I follow all of Zayn’s instructions. I feel silly as I crawl into my bunk, half naked. But it’s the waiting that really gets me. I left my phone in the pocket of my jeans which are on the floor. I have no idea how much time has passed. But I’m not willing to get out to grab my phone. With my luck, Zayn would walk in while I’m standing there fiddling with my jeans. So I lay there, imagining all the things Zayn might do to me. The anticipation turns me on more than I could have imagined. And more than it probably should.

    More time passes until finally, I hear the door to the bus open. I also hear more than one set of footsteps.

    “Liam, it’s just the boys out here. You can come out now,” Zayn says. Quietly, I comply. I can feel the heat rush to my face as I walk out into the main area. On top of being in my underwear in front of my friends with the looming punishment, I’m also hard.

    “Hm. Excited are we?” Louis smirks. I bite my tongue. _Don’t say a word. Not a word._

    “Quiet too. What did you do, Zayn? Fuck him into submission?” Harry asks. They start to walk around me, circling like sharks. There’s a nervous electricity in the air. I love it.

    “So. You said you need to be punished. What are you being punished for?” Zayn asks. I lower my eyes to the floor, suddenly unsure if I am okay with this. Pain? I can handle it. Orgasm denial? I can handle it. Humiliation? I don’t know.

    “Liam, what are your colours?” Niall asks from somewhere behind me. _Niall_. A safe warmth spreads through my chest at the reminder that my boyfriend is right there. He’ll protect me. These are my friends. I’m safe.

    “Green, yellow, and red. Green is good, keep going. Yellow is slow down or I need a break. Red is stop. Everything stops, no questions asked.”

    “Good, Li. What’s your colour right now?” Louis asks, his voice softer.

    “Green,” I answer truthfully. Zayn sits on one of the couches and pats his lap. I walk over and situate myself so I’m laying over his legs.

    “I’m going to pull your underwear down. Tell me what you’re being punished for,” Zayn says as he carefully pulls the thin fabric down off my bum.

    “I was a jerk. I cheated on you and then left you for Niall. And then I just decided I wanted you again,” I answer. Zayn tugs my underwear down enough so that my bum and the tops of my thighs are bare. I hear him take a breath in but I cut him off. “And for lying. I lied to Niall and said I didn’t have feelings for you anymore. And I lied to Harry when I said I didn’t miss you. I lied to Louis when I said I thought I was enough for Niall. I don’t think I’m enough. I’ve lied to all of you and-”

    “Liam, breathe. This isn’t-”

    “Let me finish. Please,” I beg. When no one says anything, I continue.

    “I lied about the drinking. I am drinking. A lot. Niall, whenever you’re recording, I’m doing shots. I was drunk at that interview. When Paddy asked and I swore I was fine...that I just had the beginnings of the flu? I lied. I was drunk. It’s...it’s a problem,” I gush. For a moment, no one says anything. Then, it’s Niall again.

    “What’s your colour?”

    “Green.”

    “I’m going to spank you ten times. I want you to count,” Zayn says.

    “Only ten?” I ask. Zayn smoothes a hand over my bum, making me shiver.

    “You gave a lot of reasons to punish you. But only a couple actually warrant it. You’re getting ten. And then we’re going to take care of you. And then we’ll talk. One thing at a time. Are you ready?” Zayn asks.

    “Yes, sir.”

    Zayn spanks me and I count them out obediently. Around six, it gets more uncomfortable. By nine, I’m considering colouring out. But then the tenth happens and I’m done. I wipe at my tear stained cheeks and then my nose, trying to compose myself.

    “Colour?” Harry asks, handing Zayn a bottle of cream.

    “Green. What is that?”

    “It’s soothing cream. Zayn’s gonna spread it on your bum. It’ll help,” Harry says, his own face flaring pink.

    “Oh.”

    Zayn carefully spreads the cool cream over my skin and I have to admit, it does feel better. When he’s done, Zayn lets me sit up. I move to kneel at Zayn’s feet.

    “We’re going to take care of you now. I didn’t allow you to cum at the club. You’re still hard,” Zayn says, glancing down at my erection. “We can take care of it. Or you can choose one of us or two. Or you can take care of it yourself. Or you can shower. We can shower. Or the four of us can move to the hotel room and give you space. What do you want to do?”

    I think about all the options and feel my head start to swim. Alcohol is still coursing through my veins but I suddenly feel very sober. And very aware of the current situation.

    “Too many choices,” I say, closing my eyes. Niall moves, sinking to the floor next to me, and kisses my shoulder.

    “Do you want to be alone?” Niall asks, isolating one choice. I shake my head.

    “No.”

    “Do you want to take care of it yourself?”

    “...”

    “Don’t be shy. We won’t judge.”

    “No.”

    “No what?”

    “No, I don’t want to take care of it myself.”

    “Okay. Do you want to pick someone?” Niall asks. I don’t know how to answer this. I know I should say that I just want my boyfriend. But I can’t deny the desire for Zayn. And Niall and I have been talking about Lou and Harry…

    “Do you trust us?” Louis asks, breaking my focus and forcing it onto him. I look up and meet his eyes. Beautiful, alluring cerulean pools that seem limitless.

    “Yes,” I tell him. Louis nods and then goes towards the bunks. When we comes back, he’s holding a blindfold.

    “Sometimes, choosing can be difficult. If you trust us, we will blindfold you and we will choose who helps you. That way, it takes the pressure off of you and you can just relax and enjoy it. Sound good?” Louis suggests. I feel myself relax as I release a breath.

    “Yeah. Yeah, I like that idea,” I tell him. Louis smiles and wastes no time in tying the blindfold, (which upon further inspection is one of Harry’s head scarves), around my face.

    “Okay. Do you want a blow job, to fuck one of us, or be fucked?” Harry asks. I bite my lip nervously.

    “Fuck one of you.”

    “Okay. Give us a minute. You can touch yourself but don’t cum,” Zayn says. I want to reach down and pump my fist until I find release but I want sex more. So I sit there and wait patiently. I hear shuffling around me. Some whispers. Then the sound of the cap opening on a bottle of lube. A hiss. I can’t tell who it is. A small whimper. It’s not Niall. Niall doesn’t whimper like that. Another whine. A small sigh. Not Zayn either. That leaves Harry and Louis. I can’t imagine Louis bottoming for me so I decide it must be Harry.

    “You’re allowed to touch the person’s hips and that’s it. Do you understand?” Niall asks. I nod my head, trying to keep my excitement at bay. My cock is so hard, it's starting to get uncomfortable.

    I feel someone climb on top of me. He takes my erection in his hand and slicks it up with lube. Then, I feel my tip brush his hole.

    “Fuck. This is hot,” I groan. Several chuckles sound out around me. I feel him lift himself up and then very, very slowly ease himself onto my cock. Whoever he is, he’s ridiculously tight. I worry for a moment that whoever it is didn’t get enough prep. But the pleased moans tell me otherwise. I can’t keep my hands to myself anymore. I run my hands up his thighs towards his hips. As I’m going, my hands smoothing over his skin, my breath catches. These thighs can only belong to one person. Just to double check, I reach around to grab his bum.

    This is _definitely_ Louis Tomlinson.

    “Hey, watch the hands,” Zayn chuckles. I don’t listen. My hands grip Louis’s bum, kneading at the supple flesh.

    “Can I take the blindfold off? Please? I want to see this,” I practically beg.

    “Do you know who it is?” Zayn asks. I feel the smile spread across my mouth.

    “This,” I grunt, grabbing Lou’s ass and thrusting up into him. “Is definitely Lou.”

    “Take the blindfold off, Zayn,” Louis says, almost breathless. I keep my hands where they are as Louis continues to fuck himself down onto my hard length. I hear movement and then suddenly the blindfold is gone. I glance around quickly and find my entire band is naked. Zayn is standing and observing while Niall and Harry look like they’re about two dry humps away from fucking. Then, I turn my attention back to Louis. And what a sight he his.

    Louis sits in my lap, grinding his bum along my pelvis with my cock deep inside him. His caramel fringe is damp and messy while his bright, crystal clear eyes stare at me. Almost likes he’s looking into my soul. Our eyes are locked as Louis lifts himself up again only to slowly drop back down into my lap. The tight heat surrounding me combined with the torturously slow movement makes me throw my head back with a groan. Louis wraps his arms around my neck, his fingers grasping at my damp skin. When I look back at him, he takes the opportunity to surge forward. Our lips connect in a hungry passion that I can’t explain. My fingers dig into his hips, helping him slam down onto my cock.

    Kissing Louis is hot and messy. It leaves me breathless, my head spinning. When we come up for air, Louis refocuses on riding me. Niall is good at riding me. And Zayn was always amazing. But Louis...Louis is different. I don’t know if it’s the novelty of it, the fact that he’s my bandmate, (and not my boyfriend), or if it’s something else...but it’s amazing. Whatever it is, it’s amazing.

    “I’m gonna cum. Oh fuck, Li. I’m gonna cum,” Louis whines. His words snap me out of my thoughts.

    “Yeah? You’re gonna cum just from my cock alone?” I ask. Louis nods his head frantically. “Use your words, baby.”

    “Yes! I’m gonna cum. Just from you. Your cock...ugh please. Harder,” Louis pleads.

    “You want it harder, baby? Huh? That’s what you want? You wanna fall apart?”

    “Please, Liam! Please make me cum,” Louis shouts. So I give him what he wants. I wrap my arms around his waist and force his hips down to meet my thrusts. “Fuck. Oh yeah. Just like that. Don’t stop.”

    “Fuuuuck,” I moan, feeling my belly tighten. Louis cums with an insanely sexy moan, painting my chest white. And that’s what does it for me. Seeing him fall apart on my cock and feeling his walls contract around me throws me over the edge. Louis bounces on my cock, slowing down and milking everything I have. I let my head fall back, utterly spent.

    I expect him to get up and for all of us to go our separate ways. But instead, Louis grabs a discarded shirt and gently wipes off my chest. Then, he slumps forward and curls up against me, his arms slipping around my waist. I look up at Harry for help but he’s currently balls deep in Niall’s ass. _Well then_.

    “Can you hold me, please?” a small voice asks. I look down and see Louis hiding his face in my chest. I wrap my arms around him and hug him tightly.

    “Are you okay?” I ask gently. Louis nods shyly, unwilling to meet my eyes.

    “I’m sorry. I get clinging after…” Louis says, his voice trailing off. I kiss his forehead and lean farther back so we’re more comfortable.

    “Don’t apologize. I’m happy to hold you,” I tell him, smiling against his hair.

    We sit there in companionable silence for a moment until my boyfriend’s mouth starts going.

    “Oh fuck, Haz. Oh fuck. Come on. Harder. Oh fuck yeah,” Niall moans. I glance up and see what may be one of the hottest scenes ever. Harry has Niall pinned to the other couch while he plows into him, fucking Niall so hard that Niall’s whole body shudders with each thrust. Meanwhile, Zayn is standing over Niall, stroking his cock furiously while watching our bandmates fuck. Zayn tilts his head back and I know he’s close. It’s his telltale sign.

    Sure enough, within moments, Zayn swears and starts to cum, shooting his load all over Niall’s face and neck.

    “I’m gonna cum,” Harry warns. He pulls out and pumps out his orgasm with his hand, cumming all over Niall’s neglected erection. “Touch yourself.”

    Harry’s command prompts Niall to do just as he’s told, reaching down to play with his balls while his other hand works his shaft. Niall uses Harry cum to slick up the hand pumping his cock. Niall soon finds release and adds to the mess that is his body.

    “Holy fuck,” the Irish lad sighs.

    “Why did we wait so long to do this?” Zayn chuckles. The raven haired boy goes into the tiny tour bus bathroom and grabs several towels, passing them out to us. I watch as he carefully cleans up my boyfriend’s face and body and then even takes the time to give him a sweet kiss. My heart swells. Some people might be jealous. And maybe I could be if the situation were different. But right now, it just feels good.

    I tuck my face into the crook of Louis’s neck and sigh happily. I’m content.

    “How’s my boy doing?” Harry asks, rubbing a hand over Louis’s back. The eldest band member whines and buries his face farther into my chest. “Is he in space?”

    “What’s that?” I ask, confused.

    “Subspace. Happens when a person, typically the person bottoming, is overwhelmed or overstimulated. It’s not a bad thing. Just means you fucked him good and now he needs a little extra care. Think of it like aftercare,” Harry explains.

    “Like BDSM aftercare?” I ask. I don’t really know what that is but it’s the only time I’ve heard the term “aftercare” aside from tattoo instructions.

    “Yeah pretty much. Only difference for Lou is that he’s more clingy. Like if I were to spank him or paddle him, he doesn’t require as much aftercare. He handles that really well because he’s got a thing for pain. But Lou is generally the one in control. Even when I top or I’m in control, I’m only in that position because he lets me. Louis feels the need to always be in control. So when he gives up all control like this, it takes him awhile to calm down and kind of get back to his regular headspace. You basically just have to baby him a bit,” Harry says. I nod in understanding and tighten my arms around the boy in my lap. Then I look back at Harry.

    “Do you want to? Should I let you do this part?” I ask despite my desire to take care of Lou myself. Thankfully, Harry shakes his head.

    “No, it’s best you do it. You took him there, you take care of him,” Harry smiles. “Besides, Lou always talks about how he thinks you’d be a good cuddler. I’m sure he’ll enjoy this.”

    I tip my head back and laugh heartily.

    “Oh sure. Just inflate his ego some more,” Niall chuckles from across the bus. I lift up my hand and flip him off.

    “No thanks, baby. I’m all fucked out!”

    “Oh I know. What a sight that was,” I tell him, eyeing him playfully. Niall’s cheeks instantly redden.

    “Shut up,” Niall grumbles, turning to hide behind Harry. The curly haired boy chuckles but lets Niall have his way, shielding him.

    “Floating,” Louis mumbles against my chest.

    “I've got you, love,” I remind him.

    “What if I leave? If I go?” Louis asks. I kiss his forehead and hold him against my body.

     "Anywhere you go, I'll follow you down,” I whisper. Louis chuckles lightly.

    “That was almost as corny as Harry's jokes.’

 

    Fifteen or so minutes later, Louis shifts in my lap.

    “How are you doing, love?” I whisper to Louis. He picks up his head to look at me, making me fall into his impossibly blue eyes yet again. I run my thumb over his cheekbone. “God you’re beautiful.”

   Louis smiles and blushes, looking down. I tip his chin up so I can kiss him. This one is soft and sweet, just like the pliant boy in my lap. The typical loud mouth, towering personality has been swapped out for this quiet and cuddly version of Louis. I like both. But right now, I’m really liking this version.

    “I’m okay,” Louis answers softly. I use my hands to massage his collarbones. “Mmm...that’s nice.”

     "Anything for you,” I smile. Louis stares into my eyes again.

    “Anything?” he asks quietly. I nod my head. “Kiss me again. Please.”

    I capture his lips again and fall into the sweetness of the moment. I close my eyes and let myself feel all of it. The pressure of Lou’s lips against my own. The way his breath catches as I lick into his mouth. The feeling of his warm skin under my hands as I caress his body.

    Louis kisses me, nice and slow, until I'm sure our lips are chapped. When he pulls away, I can't help but whine at the loss of contact. Louis chuckles and runs his fingers across my shoulders before settling in for a hug.

    “You back with me?” I ask, rubbing his back.

    “Yeah. Thank you for taking care of me,” he says softly - almost like he's shy.

    “I should be thanking you. Never thought you'd bottom for anyone. Especially me,” I chuckle. Louis laughs with me as he carefully eases himself off my lap.

    “Hey, it's been a long time since the X Factor. Give me some credit,” he says, poking my ribs. I catch his hand in mine and bring his fingers to my mouth, kissing the tips. A pretty blush spreads over his cheeks.

    “Oi! Are the pair of ya functional yet?” Niall calls from the little booth where we eat.

    “Have some patience, Irish,” Louis grumbles. “Your boyfriend wrecked me.”

    I watch as Louis practically waddles over to the bathroom, shutting himself inside.

    “So. What did you think?” Harry asks as he plops down beside me, waggling his eyebrows. The curly haired boy hands me a blanket to cover up with.

    “We really gonna have this conversation?” I laugh. Harry shrugs his shoulders.

    “That was like the hottest thing I've ever seen. And he completely let go with you. I like that he's getting more comfortable. So...how was it?”

    I can see he's going to keep asking so I give in.

    “Fucking amazing. He's so tight. At first I was a bit worried he wasn't prepped enough,” I admit. Harry shakes his head slightly.

    “Nah. Lou just likes the burn of the stretching. He doesn't like a lot of prep. Though I did prep him more than normal cause you're definitely bigger than me,” Harry informs me. I feel myself blush.

    “And now we’re comparing sizes? Top ten conversations I never expected to have with you.”

    “Hey I can appreciate a nice cock, okay? Watching yours disappear inside Lou's-"

    “Alright, alright!” I shout. “I get it. It was hot as fuck. We gotta change the subject or I'm gonna get hard again.”

    “You say that like it would be a bad thing,” Harry purrs, inching closer to me. _What the hell have we started?_

    I grab a fistful of Harry's curls and drag him forward, pressing my lips to his in a rough kiss.

    “Another time, I'll destroy you. But right now, I want cuddles and sleep,” I tell him. Unsurprisingly, Harry's whole face lights up.

    “We have the hotel rooms! We can all cuddle and sleep together!” he announces. He looks over at Niall and Zayn for approval.

    “We won't all be able to sleep in one bed though. Five of us won't fit in a king bed,” Zayn points out. Harry's smile deflates a bit.

    “Well, we can start out in a cuddle pile on the floor and then break off and move to the beds. We can just get a suite,” Niall suggests. Louis emerges from the bathroom, now wearing a pair of boxer briefs, (which I'm fairly certain belong to me), and joins Zayn and Niall in the booth.

     “What are we doing?” the oldest band member asks.

    “We're gonna use the hotel tonight and get a suite so we can all be together. Cuddle pile!” Harry beams. Louis laughs and shakes his head affectionately.

    “Whatever you want, babe.”

 

**Liam’s POV** ****  
****  
**September 27th, 2014**   
  
   “Hazza, you're killing me. Just sit down,” I beg. His persistent pacing is making me dizzy.   
  
   “How am I supposed to sit down?! He's missing! My fiance is missing!” the curly haired boy shouts at me. I roll my eyes, grab his arm, and pull him down into my lap.   
  
   “Say it a little louder. I think someone in China didn't quite hear you,” I reprimand. Harry wiggles around in my lap and then sighs    
  
   “Pulling me into your lap and hugging me isn't going to fix it,” Harry says. Sometimes, he's a very professional, polished pop star. And other times, he's a petulant child.   
  
   “No. But it will occupy you for a bit,” I say. I wrap my arms around his torso and hug him tightly. Thankfully, Harry relaxes into it.   
  
   “Where could he be?” Harry wonders out loud.   
  
   “You make it sound like he's fallen off the face of the planet. He went out with Zayn and Paddy. How much trouble can they really get into?” I ask. Harry and I lock eyes, letting the question hang in the air.   
  
   We groan at the same time, falling back into the mess of pillows and couch cushions.   
  
   “Five minutes to lights, boys!” Paul shouts. Harry, Niall, and I glance at each other. This isn't going to be good.   
  
   “What the fuck do we do?” Niall asks, directing the question at me. I gently ease Harry off my lap so I can pace back and forth, considering our options. Then, I turn back to my band mates.   
  
   “I have no idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliff hanger. I know. I'm sort of sorry. But if it's any consolation, next chapter is THE CHAPTER. So yeah. Don't hate me ♡
> 
> Chapter title and referenced lyrics are from "Follow You Down" by Gin Blossoms. One of my favourite songs ever.
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are appreciated!


	26. Fireproof

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Comes out of hiding*
> 
> Hello. I suck. I'm sorry. And I actually mean it. I know it's been quite some time since I updated. But if it's any consolation, this is the chapter we've all been waiting for. This is like...98% fluff.
> 
> Note: The sections in plain italics are flash backs, like normal. All of the song lyrics are in bold and italics.

*****previously*****

**Liam’s POV** ****  
****  
**September 27th, 2014**   
  
   “Hazza, you're killing me. Just sit down,” I beg. His persistent pacing is making me dizzy.   
  
   “How am I supposed to sit down?! He's missing! My fiance is missing!” the curly haired boy shouts at me. I roll my eyes, grab his arm, and pull him down into my lap.   
  
   “Say it a little louder. I think someone in China didn't quite hear you,” I reprimand. Harry wiggles around in my lap and then sighs.    
  
   “Pulling me into your lap and hugging me isn't going to fix it,” Harry says. Sometimes, he's a very professional, polished pop star. And other times, he's a petulant child.   
  
   “No. But it will occupy you for a bit,” I say. I wrap my arms around his torso and hug him tightly. Thankfully, Harry relaxes into it.   
  
   “Where could he be?” Harry wonders out loud.   
  
   “You make it sound like he's fallen off the face of the planet. He went out with Zayn and Paddy. How much trouble can they really get into?” I ask. Harry and I lock eyes, letting the question hang in the air.   
  
   We groan at the same time, falling back into the mess of pillows and couch cushions.   
  
   “Five minutes to lights, boys!” Paul shouts. Harry, Niall, and I glance at each other. This isn't going to be good.   
  
   “What the fuck do we do?” Niall asks, directing the question at me. I gently ease Harry off my lap so I can pace back and forth, considering our options. Then, I turn back to my band mates.   
  
   “I have no idea.”

  
  


**Chapter 26: Fireproof**

 

**Louis’s POV**

**September 27th, 2014 - 12 Hours Earlier**

 

    “Would you quit with the pacing? You're driving me mad,” Zayn groans. I ignore him in favour of wearing a hole in the hotel room carpet.

    “I can’t sit down. We’re so close. It’s almost here and there are just so many moving parts. It’s not going to work. It won’t come together in time,” I ramble. Zayn sighs heavily and grabs my shoulders.

    “Lou. You need to chill the fuck out. Smoke a bowl. Have a beer. We’ve already confirmed all the moving parts. Everything is falling into place. Relax,” he says, coaxing me onto the couch.

    “I can’t smoke right now. We have that interview in like ten minutes!” I shout at him. Zayn rolls his eyes and hands me a bowl anyways. He flicks open a lighter, sees it’s working, and hands that to me as well.

    “You’ve done interviews with Harry’s fingers in your ass. You can handle a little weed,” Zayn chuckles. I can’t help the smug smile that settles over my mouth. That was a fun interview.

    “I’m not smoking the whole thing. Split it with me,” I demand, lighting up. Zayn flops onto the couch next to me.

    “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

  
  
  


    “Welcome, boys! It’s great to have you here,” the interviewer, Christy, says with a warm smile.

    “Thanks for having us. It’s our pleasure, really,” Liam says. I glance over at my bandmate. I can see his hand clasped around Niall’s underneath the small table, away from prying eyes.

    “Let’s jump right in! Your next album,  _ Four _ , is set to be released in just two months. You must be very excited. Can you tell me a little about the writing process on this one?” Christy asks.

    “Payno and I actually wrote quite a bit of this one,” I tell her proudly. “It’s been different in that this one feels more mature for us, I think. There’s a track on there that was written by Ed Sheeran. I really enjoyed recording that one. He’s a really talented lad.”

    “It’s no surprise he fits right in with you then. Harry, how are the vocals for you on this project? In previous albums, we’ve gotten little glimpses of your range and power. Can we expect the same with  _ Four _ ?”

    “Erm...yeah, I suppose so. I feel like we’ve each had our really good moments over the last couple albums. We, as well as the other writers, went into this one with the same dedication,” Harry answers. His slow words and honey-sweet accent pull Christy in until she’s practically melting. It’s always the same. Every time. I fight the urge to laugh fondly.

    “Fair enough. I have to say that hearing you do  _ Best Song Ever _ live is comparable to a religious experience. The improv notes near the end are really something,” Christy says. She’s practically drooling. And Harry, of course, is preening under the attention.

    “Thanks, love. It means a lot,” he beams. I feel anger bristle up the back of my neck. “There’s a song on the new album called ‘No Control’. Lou was the primary writer on that one and it came out quite good. He also gets to lead a lot of the vocals for the track which is really exciting. I think fans will be pleased with it.”

    If it's possible, the curly haired lad I love so much looks even more pleased with himself when talking about my songwriting.  _ God I love him _ .

    “That's great! I think fans also love how supportive you all are of each other. Not all bands are like that,” Christy points out. I can't help but frown.

    “Well they should,” I insist, maybe a little more loudly than necessary. Everyone’s eyes snap to me while I just shrug my shoulders. “They should. These lads are my best friends. I see them far more than my own family. They, along with other members of our team...the musicians, the roadies, the techs, our security...we’re all a family. So we all support each other. No matter what, we all stick together.”

  
  
  


    “Good interview, boys. Change if you want but we’ve got to move on. Next is an hour of shopping downtown. Autographs and pictures are okay. In fact, they’re encouraged. Something about needing some good press. So turn up the charm. Harry and Lou, keep the Larry Stylinson to a minimum,” Paddy says, staring at his phone the entire time. Definitely distracted.

    I consider asking him about it but Zayn grabs my arm.

    “We’ve got a problem,” he says in a hushed tone. Instantly, my stomach twists and drops.

    “No. No problems. There’s not enough wiggle room to accomodate problems,” I remind him. Zayn pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and nibbles. “Zayn. What problem? What’s the problem?”

    The raven haired lad pulls me away from the throng of people and towards an empty room instead of the buses.  _ This can’t be good. _

  
  


**Harry’s POV**

    “We’ve got a problem,” I overhear Zayn say. I turn my head and see him gripping Lou’s arm, both of their faces serious.

    “No. No problems. There’s not enough wiggle room to accomodate problems,” Louis says, clear panic setting in. I move to comfort him - to find out what’s wrong. But The pair turn away, Louis still muttering to Zayn. Then they’re walking away.

    “C’mon, mate,” Niall says, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “I'm starving.”

    Pushing the uneasy feeling away, I focus on Niall and his ever present hunger.

    “You're always hungry, Ni,” I point out playfully. The blonde pouts at me.

    “So?” his voice is different now. Almost like he's embarrassed.

    “Hey,” I say gently, hugging Niall to my side. “I didn't mean anything bad by it. I'm pretty much always hungry too. You think Sarah’s got stuff to make burger?”

    Niall's face brightens at the mention of our nutritionist. Niall and Sarah have a very special relationship. She feeds him, he fawns over her like a school boy in love.

    “If I ask, Sarah can do anything,” Niall beams. Paddy and Preston start walking toward us, probably about to tell us to hurry up. But my Irishman wants food. And let's be real. That's what's really important here. A side glance at him tells me all I need to know. In unspoken understanding, we turn and take off towards Sarah's bus.

    “Sarah!” I shout once we've boarded. Sarah shares this bus with Lou, Amanda and Elise from wardrobe, and two sound techs.

    “Niall?” a voice asks. I look over and see Sarah emerging from the bunk area. Sarah is a pretty woman in her early forties with an insane amount of patience for us. “Oh, Harry too. Hello, loves. Hungry?”

    “You know the way to me heart,” Niall swoons. Sarah shakes her head and starts pulling things out of large plastic totes.

    “Everyone knows the way to your heart, love,” she smiles. She moves around the bus pulling ingredients from all places before I realize she’s got everything to make burgers. In fact, the burger patties are already cooked. She puts two of them on a plate and sets them in the microwave. She looks up at Niall, (who’s beaming at her), and chuckles before adding a third patty to the plate. “Sorry they’re not more fresh. But I know for a fact that you’ve got to get a move on soon. No time for proper cooking, I’m afraid.”

    “Our other option was cereal out of a box,” I point out. Sarah snorts in laughter and starts setting up the buns and condiments.

    “So this is gourmet. Excellent,” she says. She assembles the most amazing looking burgers, opting to give Niall two patties in his. I shake my head at the blonde, trying to ignore the porn worthy sounds coming from his mouth as he bites into his lunch.

    “You’re a bit ridiculous,” I tell him. I take a bite of my own burger and immediately understand. This may be the best burger I’ve ever had. “Wow. This is amazing, Sarah.”

    “Don’t talk with you mouth full,” she chides, handing each of us a napkin. Then she drops a kiss into my curls. “I love you both but get off my bus. Paddy and Preston are probably looking for you.”

    With plentiful thank yous and a couple wet kisses pressed to her cheeks, Niall and leave the bus and are promptly met by the aforementioned security personnel.

    “Alright, lads. Change of plan,” Paddy says, smiling at me. This is a marked difference from the distracted air about him earlier.

    “Please tell me we don’t have to go shopping. I really don’t want to walk around forever while Louis makes us stop at every shop that sells Adidas,” Niall whines.

    Preston shakes his head, laughing, “You don’t have to go shopping.”

    “What? Really?” Niall asks excitedly, mouth still full of burger. Preston rolls his eyes and waits for his charge to finish chewing.

    “Yes, really. Louis and Zayn have some other stuff to do-” Preston starts before I cut him off.

    “Have stuff to do? What could they possibly have to do? And why are we being separated? Oh God, did management find out? Are they separating us? They can’t cancel the show right? Shit, what if we can’t get married? Oh my God. Where is Ed? We don’t even know if Ed’s flight is on time. But it might not even mat-”

    “Harry!” Niall shouts, shaking me from my rambling. “Haz, slow down. Breath for me, yeah?”

    I nod and force a steadying breath.

    “Relax, Harry. Nothing is wrong. Everything is still on for the concert tonight. Management doesn’t know anything. Lou and Zayn just have a couple things to take care of before the show, alright? In the meantime, the pair of you and Liam are going to have some free time. Within reason, of course. We reserved the pool at the hotel for you guys. We thought pool, food, and relaxing. Sound good?” Preston asks. I don’t respond. I don’t know how to respond, really.

    “Good enough for me,” Niall says. He, accompanied by Paddy, starts walking in the direction of the buses. “Haz, should I grab your suit for you?”

    “No, I’m alright. Think I’ll grab some tea and take a nap,” I decide. Niall stops to look at me.

    “Aw c’mon, Haz. It’s been ages since it’s been just us. We even probably have a couple minutes before Leemo catches up. I reckon we could go cause some chaos,” Niall suggests, waggling his eyebrows at me. I weigh my options - which, really, aren’t plentiful. I could cave and play along with Niall. Or I can attempt to follow through with my plan until Niall pouts...and then I’ll cave and play along with Niall.

    With a heavy sigh and an even heavier sigh from our security, I agree to the chaos.

  
  
  


    “Doesn’t get much better than this,” Liam says, humming to himself. He’s drifting afloat in the pool with a cold beer in his hand. Niall is beside him, on his own float, with ankles lock with his boyfriend’s. I’d like to be able to enjoy the serenity that is an empty pool room. But the noticeable lack of my fiance and our fifth band member is making me nervous. It’s been a few hours and I’m still on edge.

    “Penny for your thoughts?”

    I look up and see Paddy standing next to me at the edge of the pool. He hands me a beer and then sits down next to me.

    “I can’t drink in the states yet,” I remind him. Paddy shrugs his shoulders and takes a long pull from his own drink.

    “I figure I either let you have a beer now and try to get you to unwind a bit or I have to track down something stronger later when I need to contain you,” he says, chuckling. He’s got a point. I crack open the beer and down half of it.

    “I take it you know where they are?” I ask. Paddy nods, watching Liam as he drips water over Niall’s legs. The pair are giggling to themselves, seemingly in their own little world. I wonder if Paddy knows about them. In all honesty, security seems to know everything.

    “Of course I know where they are. Don’t worry, Styles. They’re not getting into any trouble,” he assures me. But it does little to soothe the anxiety.

    “It’s hard to believe that Louis and Zayn could be off doing anything other than getting into trouble,” I snort. Paddy laughs and lifts his shoulder as if to say “good point”.

    “That’s fair. But you all have a show tonight. And a very special show at that. Do you really believe I’d let them do anything too crazy?”

  
  
  


    “Five minutes to lights, boys!” Paul shouts. Liam, Niall, and I sit there staring at each other.

    “What the fuck do we do?” Niall asks. Liam nudges me from my position on his lap and begins to pace back and forth. After a few passes, he stops and looks at us.

    “I have no idea,” he says. He resumes pacing, moving throughout the room in thought.

    “Paddy said he knew where they were. Right?” Niall asks. I nod silently. “Well maybe they know. No one seems to be that freaked out that two of us are missing. Maybe this is planned?”

    “If this is planned, and he’s making me panic for no reason, I’ll kill him,” I seethe. Just as I’m about to go hunt down Paddy, our dressing room door opens. Mr. Ed Sheeran himself slips into the room and slams it shut behind him, leaning against the wall.

    “Oi, this is so much more difficult than I anticipated,” Ed groans. I throw my hands up in annoyance.

    “Ed is here but Louis isn’t. That’s it. He’s a dead man,” I practically growl. Ed grabs onto my shoulders and steadys me.

    “Relax. It’s all falling into place,” he tells me. Because I know what that means. Obviously.

    “Lads, let’s get a move on,” Paddy shouts as he opens the door. Ed grabs me by the arms and starts propelling me towards the stage doors.

    “Where are they?” I demand to know. Ed stops just short of the curtains and grins at me.

    “Relax, mate. Enjoy the show,” he says. Then he turns and disappears into a rolling crate that’s stationed behind the fog machine. A few sound techs appear and prep us, hurrying to get everyone wired. Then, with mics in hand, we’re ready to go. Three-fifths of One Direction is ready to hit the stage.

    Next thing I know, Josh is counting out the opening to  _ Midnight Memories _ and we’re being shoved onto stage. Well here we go.

**_Straight off the plane to a new hotel_ **

**_Just touched down, you could never tell_ **

**_A big house party with a crowded kitchen_ **

**_People talk shh but we don't listen_ **

    I bring my mic back up, ready to take Louis’s part when I hear it.

**_Tell me that I’m wrong but I do what I please_ **

    I look over in time to see my other half burst out onto stage, looking like a badass in a pair of ripped skinnies and my favourite Ramones tee.

**_Way too many people in the Addison Lee_ **

    I shake my head fondly.  _ Louis fucking Tomlinson _ .

  
  
  


    “Hello, everybody! How are we feeling?” Liam asks the crowd. Thousands of screaming fans answer him. But apparently not enough to Liam’s liking. “Oh come on now. That wasn’t very convincing. I want to know how you’re feeling!”

    A deafening response shakes the venue.

    “That’s what we like to hear! Thank you all for coming out tonight. We’ve got a really special show for you. For those of you who’ve been following us on social media, particularly youtube, let us tell you now that this show is going to be different,” Louis informs the crowd. Off to the side, just backstage, I can see Paddy smiling proudly.

    “Yes. Very special indeed. You might have noticed that we’re not following exactly along with the setlist we’ve had at previous shows on this tour. Rest assured, we’re still hitting all the important ones. Which leads me to my next thing, we have a very special announcement. Tonight, on this very stage, we are going to be performing a new song,” Liam announces. To say the room goes nuts would be a severe understatement. “Now being that it's a new song and this is the first live performance, it may not be perfect.”

    “This song is incredibly important to us and we’re so excited for you to hear it. So without further ado, this is  _ Fireproof _ ,” I tell them, my face beginning to hurt form how much I’m smiling. I look around at the boys. This is it. I can see Liam looking backstage and gesturing to someone. Then there's a light scraping over the in-ears.

    “Alright, lads,” I hear Ed say. “Let's do this.”

    Louis gives a thumbs up to the band, Paddy gives the same to us, and then the opening notes ring out.

    I take a deep breath. Toss my microphone from hand to hand.

    And then I sing.

**_I think I'm gonna lose my mind_ **

**_Something deep inside me I can't give up_ **

**_I think I'm gonna lose my mind_ **

**_I roll and I roll ‘til I'm out of luck, yeah_ **

**_I roll and I roll ‘til I'm out of luck_ **

    I have to focus on my breathing or else I'm going to pass out.

    Niall walks up next to me and takes over.

**_I'm feeling something deep inside,_ **

**_Hotter than a jet stream burning up,_ **

**_I got a feeling deep inside,_ **

**_It's taking, it's taking all I've got, yeah_ **

**_It's taking, it's taking all I've got_ **

    Now it’s the chorus. On the studio album - and in future performances - we’ll all sing this bit together. But not tonight.

    Just as discussed, I take the first line of the section and Ed talks over the in-ears as I sing. The timing is perfect.

    “Do you, Louis, take Harry as your lawfully wedded husband?”

**_Cause nobody knows you, baby, the way I do._ **

    And then it’s Harry’s turn. I glance over at him, tears gathering at my lashes. Harry is staring directly at me, microphone in hand, seemingly ready to serenade me.

    “Do you, Harry, take Louis as your lawfully wedded husband?”

**_And nobody loves you, baby, the way I do._ **

    I suppose that’s what this is. Serenading our wedding vows. Because how else would two international pop stars get married?

    Liam, Niall, and Zayn continue on with the chorus while Ed chimes in again.

    “Congrats, lads. You’re officially married,” he says. I can hear the smile to his voice and I can’t help but smile myself. For the moment, everything is perfect.

  
  
  


    “Thank you, Charlotte! You guys have been absolutely amazing. We’re so thankful that we got to spend the night with you. See you next time around!” Liam shouts to the stadium. We all take our finals bows, wave goodbye, blow kisses, and then we exit the stage. And that’s when shit hits the fan.

    “What the fuck was that?!”

    Andrew, a supervisor from Modest!Management, charges at us despite Paddy and Preston’s efforts to calm him down.

    “Can I help you?” Louis sasses. Andrew looks about ready to bust a vein.

    “Care to explain that stunt? We have a specific setlist for a reason. You added song, omitted others, but above all...YOU PERFORMED A SONG THAT HASN’T BEEN RELEASED!” he practically screams. I can see Louis cracking his knuckles - a telltale sign he’s about to snap. I grab the Doncaster lad’s hand, uncaring of who may see.

    “Let’s all take a breath, yeah?” Paddy suggests. Andrews eyes are glued to where my hand is wrapped around Lou’s.

    “The two of you,” he starts, pointing between me and Louis. “You guys need to separate. People are going to get the wrong idea. You need to start follow orders and comply with the standards that Modest set for you when you signed your contracts. You can play house behind closed doors. You’re lucky we don’t haul you to court for breach of contract.”

    Well. Any prayer this guy had at getting out of here without making a scene was just squashed. Though, funnily enough, it doesn’t come from Louis.

    “Do not threaten them,” Paddy says firmly. Andrew’s eyes widen slightly at the security guard’s command. “You and I both know you are unable to follow through on a threat like that. Simon has final say in what happens to these boys. And I can guarantee he’d be more upset to learn of you threatening them like this than he’d be over their behaviour.”

    “Don’t act as if you’re innocent here. Care to tell me why two of them almost missed the opening song?” Andrew demands.

    “No, I don’t,” Paddy says simply. He then turns to us. “Get unwired and change. You’ve got somewhere to be.”

    Niall and Liam grab my hands and hurry me along to wherever it is we’re going. I expect to be thrown into a dressing room to change but instead, they drag me outside to a couple waiting SUVs.

    “Into the vehicle, Styles,” Liam instructs. I look at him, trying to figure out what exactly is going on.

    “You sound like you’re kidnapping me,” I point out. Liam and Niall chuckle and nudge me inside.

    “You make it sound like that would be a bad thing,” Niall says. They each climb in after me and shut the door. Then, the driver takes off. I can see from my spot in the back that it’s Cole. I smile at him, waving.

    “Hey, Cole,” I greet him. He nods his head in the rearview mirror.

    “Hiya, Haz,” he says as he pulls away from the venue. I look around through the back window.

    “Are Lou and Z not coming?” I ask, panicking only slightly. Liam grabs my hand and squeezes reassuringly.

    “Deep breath, Haz. They’re coming with us. We just need to get you there first,” Niall says. The questions just keep piling up. So I look up at Cole again.

    “I don’t suppose you’ll tell me what everyone is up to?” I ask. Cole laughs and shakes his head.

    “I have strict instructions from Tommo. Any deviation and he’ll have my head. And my job. And in that order, according to him.”

    Yep. Sounds like Louis.

    I settle for watching the city going whizzing by outside. Just as I start to calm down a bit, we enter the airport.

    “We’re flying somewhere? But what about our buses? And all our stuff?” I question. Niall shakes his head and physically covers my mouth with his hand.

    “Shut it, Haz,” he says. I sigh and look out my window, grumbling about secrets and bullshit.

    Cole drives us through a couple security checkpoints and right onto the tarmac. A small private jet appears to be waiting.

    “Guys...what did Louis do?” I ask hesitantly. Liam and Niall share a look and pretend to zip their mouths shut. 

  
  


    “Can I get you anything else, Mr. Styles?” a flight attendant asks. I sigh happily into my fluffy blanket, a hot cup of tea perched on my tray table.

    “It's Tomlinson. And no, thank you. This is perfect,” I tell her. Next to me, Louis chuckles.

    “You've been dying to say that, haven't you?” my husband, (cause holy fuck I'm married), asks. I sneak a hand out from my burrito of warmth and grab Lou’s smaller hand.

    “You have no idea.”

  
  


    “Alright folks, we’re making our final descent here into Jacksonville, North Carolina. Please wait until we’ve turned off the seatbelt sign. Thanks for flying with us and congratulations to the newlyweds.”

    The captain’s announcement ends and I can barely contain myself. I’m buzzing with anxiety and nervous energy. 

    “What are we doing in Jacksonville?” I ask. Liam shakes his head and holds a finger up to his lips, shushing me.

    “Just smile and nod, Haz.”

    Clearly my bandmates do not understand how difficult this is for me.

  
  
  


    So after a private plane excursion, a helicopter ride, (cause suddenly we're  _ that _ level of posh), and a bumpy car ride to who-knows-where...we’re now walking along a beachside pier.

    “If we haven't told you anything yet, what makes you think we're about to start?” Zayn asks, chuckling. I roll my eyes and sock him right in the arm.

    “I didn't even ask this time!” I protest.

    “Your continuous sighing says it all, Haz,” Paddy points out.

    “Glad to see you've taken my side,” I grumble. Everyone finds that quite funny.

    “Just a few more minutes, Harry, I promise,” Louis calls over his shoulder. Then, he leads our group into a building. Upon closer inspection, I discover it's a changing area.

    “We're allowed to be here, right?” I ask once the five of us plus Paddy and Basil are in the room. Liam sets about opening a large plastic tote that sits against the wall and passes out labelled bags. He hands me mine and I open it to find a set of clothes. 

    “Don’t ask questions. Just trust me and get dressed,” Liam smiles. Niall and Zayn immediately start stripping while Louis fights to get out of his jeans. They’re so tight, they look like they’ve been painted on.

    “Hey, Lou?” I call out. He stops, balancing on one foot, and looks at me.

    “Yeah, love?”

    “Maybe bring those jeans with you. Like...for later? In case you want to change again?” I ask, a warm blush threatening to take over my face. Louis looks away momentarily to examine the jeans before looking back at me with a smirk.

    “Oh yeah sure. And your desire to see me arse in them again is completely unrelated,” he teases. I chuckle and go about changing into my own clothes.

    “Obviously,” I joke. I pull on the items in my bag: soft khaki pants rolled up to the middle of my shin and a white linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up to my elbows. And no shoes. Liam instructs me to leave them behind and then shoves me back out the door. I open my mouth to begin questioning again when Liam guides me to the railing, forcing me to look at the beach below.

    My heart skips.

    My breath catches in my throat.

    Tears spring to my eyes and a smile spreads across my lips.

    The beach is covered in candles. Hundreds and hundreds of candles. Tall pieces of driftwood are decorated with white fairy lights. There's a seashell lined path leading from the stairs to a small driftwood archway that's wrapped in white fishnets, seashells fashioned to the rope.

    It's breathtakingly beautiful.

    But what really gets me...is the people.

    My mum, Robin, and Gemma are standing next to each other, crying silently. They're joined by Jay, Dan, and Mark. Behind them, I see all of Louis’s siblings, Niall’s parents, Liam’s parents and sisters, Zayn’s parents and sisters, and Ed. They’re all standing there on the beach, bathed in moonlight, surrounded by hundreds of candles and fairy lights.

    “Marrying you once wasn’t enough,” Louis whispers. I turn around and see him standing there, clad in his own white shirt and khakis, holding out his hand to me. I step forward and allow my fingers to lock into place between his. “Marrying out on stage felt right. It’s where we became a team. It’s where we forged a friendship and then eventually where we fell in love. Marrying you on stage made sense. But you also deserve this. A small, intimate ceremony with the people that mean the most to us.”

    “You’re incredible, Lou. Is this what you and Zayn were off doing all day?” I ask, still a bit stunned. Louis smiles excitedly.

    “Yep. It’s just as difficult as you’d imagine trying to coordinate flights and pick ups for five families. But we did it. So now, we get to do this with them,” he tells me, still smiling just as bright. He’s proud of himself - I can tell. And he should be. I know this couldn’t have been an easy feat. I remember coordinating for the Christmas party and that was a nightmare.

    “What do you say, guys? Ready to go get married? Again?” Liam asks. I look back at our band and then at Paddy. He’s flanked by Preston, Cole, and Basil. We’re with our families and we’re safe. It’s perfect.

    “Yeah. I am. Let’s do this.”

    Hand in hand, Louis and I make our way down the steps to the sandy beach below. We walk along the path and meet up with our mums.

    “Oh, my boys,” Jay weeps, grabbing both of us into a hug. She squeezes tightly and then kisses each of us on the cheek. “I love both of you so much. I’m incredibly proud of the young men you’ve become.”

    “Thanks, Jay,” I tell her, kissing her forehead. She gently smacks me on the arms.

    “I think you’ve earned the right to call me ‘mum’ by this point, haven’t you?” she chuckles. We laugh with her and we’re immediately pulled into another hug by my mum and Gemma.

    “We love you so much.  _ So _ much. We’re so happy for you,” my mum whispers against my neck. When they let go, Robin steps up. I can see the tears in his eyes and I can barely hold it together.

    My step dad wraps his strong arms around me, hugging me to his chest. He doesn’t have to say anything. I get it.

    Our parents kiss each of us one more time and then back up, making room. Everyone arranges themselves in a semi circle around the arch. Ed stands directly under the arch, smiling at us. And then he pulls out a guitar.

**_When I look into your eyes_ **

**_It's like watching the night sky_ **

**_Or a beautiful sunrise_ **

**_There's so much they hold_ **

_     “Harry, it’s too early for this!” Louis whined. He was right. It was early. But I’d be damned if I didn’t try. _

_     “Just stick it out a bit longer, babe. I promise you this is worth it,” I assured him. I heard him scoff and kick a rock. _

_     “I was quite content to spend the night comfortable in that nice hotel bed. But no. You went and threw me into a car to travel across this stupid country and now, here you are, dragging me out into the wilderness at stupid o’clock in the morning. What on Earth could worth thi- ...oh.” _

_     I smiled to myself. Yeah. Oh, Tomlinson. That’s right. _

_     I watched as Louis took in the sight. Upon arriving in New Zealand yesterday, I’d packed Louis up into a (very expensive) car and had us driven across the country to the East Cape. After having trekked through the “wilderness” as Louis called it, the Doncaster lad then saw the most spectacular view. Just out of the thick brush, there was a lighthouse. And beyond that, a beautiful beach and an equally beautiful sunrise. _

_     “From where we are standing, this very moment, we’ll be the first people on the planet to see the sunrise today,” I explained. Louis looked out over the horizon, his face splitting into a grin. He grabbed my arms, wrapping them around himself so my chest was pressed to his back. _

_     “I love you, Harry,” he said. Regardless of the many times I’d heard those words in the previous few months since that first “I love you” moment...I never got sick of hearing it. _

_     “I love you too, Lou.” _

 

**_And just like them old stars_ **

**_I see that you've come so far_ **

**_To be right where you are_ **

**_How old is your soul?_ **

 

_ “I swear to God, you’re a five year old. I live with a five year old!” Louis grumbled. I threw another piece of popcorn at him and dove back into my blanket fort. _

_     “You chose to live with me!” I reminded him, giggling. All was quiet for a moment. Carefully, I peeked out the little fashioned door. I was promptly met with a face full of popcorn. “Louis!” _

_     Louis fell to the floor, clutching his stomach as he laughed. _

_     “Sorry, babe, but you asked for it!” he chuckled. My stomach flipped at the pet name. Louis had been doing it more often lately. Ever since we’d bought our house, he’d started to change. He was softer. Sweeter. He cared less about what management said and more about our friendship. I only hoped I could one day have the guts to tell him how I felt. But how was I supposed to tell my best friend that I was in love with him? _

 

**_Well I won't give up on us, even if the skies get rough_ **

 

_     “Get back here! We aren’t done talking about this!” I shouted at Louis’s back. He whirled around to look at me, fire in his eyes. _

_     “Oh sure. Now you want to talk? What happened to a few minutes ago where all you wanted was to yell at me?! You didn’t even ask me Harry. You’re just assuming!” Louis shouted, slamming his hand against the wall. _

_     “Well what the fuck am I supposed to think? That’s what I got to wake up to today. A text from my sister asking if I’d seen the pictures of your latest outing with Eleanor. You didn’t even tell me you had an outing planed. Much less that it included kissing her!” I fired back. Louis advanced forward, bringing his chest level with mine. _

_     “And how the fuck was I supposed to start that conversation? ‘Oh hey, babe. Yeah my day was good. Oh, but FYI, I had to kiss El. No big deal.’ Tell me how that would have gone, Harry,” he spat. I rolled my eyes and shoved past him, headed for the comfort of our living room. “Oh fuck no. You want to talk, you come back here, Styles.” _

_     I didn’t stop walking. I kept going until I reached the living room. But then I changed my mind. I kept going. I kept going until I finally reached our room. And then I walked a few more feet to my old room. I let myself in, stripped down to my boxers, and climbed into bed. I curled up on my side and pulled the covers over my head. And then I let myself cry. _

 

**_I'm giving you all my love, I'm still looking up_ **

 

_     “Babe? Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was going to have to kiss her. I didn’t know until I got there. And then I was uncomfortable and angry and I just wanted to get it over with. When the outing was over, I couldn’t even come home to you. I...I was disgusted with myself. I knew I fucked up. I didn’t want to face you because I knew you’d be mad. I fucked up, Haz. I’m sorry.” _

_     I let Louis’s words hit my back and sink in, refusing to roll over and let him in. I give and give and give and Louis just...takes. _

_     “You can be mad at me all you want, Harry. But you’re not sleeping alone,” he said. I felt him lift the covers and get into bed behind me. Despite my cold and unforgiving exterior, Louis wrapped his arm around me, hugging me tightly to his body. “I love you. I know I fucked up and I’m sorry. I love you so much, Harry.” _

 

**_And when you're needing your space, to do some navigating_ **

**_I’ll be here patiently waiting, to see what you find_ **

 

_     “What do you want, Louis? Please, just tell me what you want!” I begged. I watched as he grabbed his keys off the counter and pulled on a hoodie. _

_     “I don’t know, Harry,” he said. I stepped into the doorway, blocking his exit. _

_     “You don’t know what?” _

_     “I don’t know what I want! I just don’t know, okay?! You’re a lot. This is all a lot. I just need some space for a bit. I need to think. I need to breathe!” Louis shouted. His words pierced my heart. Wordlessly, I stepped aside. Louis didn’t hesitate. He bolted out the door and into the night. _

 

 

_     Four hours later, the front door opened and closed quietly. The familiar sound of Louis’s Vans being toed off onto the carpet in the front hall. The clink of his keys in the ceramic bowl. _

_     THUD. _

_     “Shit.” _

_     The inevitable stubbing of his right big toe followed by the classic Louis response. Over two years living in the same house and he stills stubs his toe whenever the lights are off. _

_     The refrigerator door opened. He grabbed a bottle of water from the door. No wait...two bottles of water. The door shut. _

_     His socked feet climbed the stairs one at a time. He paused outside our door. Then he opened it. I saw the look of shock that flashed over his face. He was clearly expecting me to be asleep. Given that he left around midnight, that would be a good guess. But not tonight. _

_     “Harry,” he breathed. Our eyes connected. _

_     “Hi,” I said. Louis stood at the foot of our bed, looking embarrassed. “Found what you were looking for then?” _

_     “Yeah,” he said. Louis lifted his hands - one grasping the two bottles of water and the other wrapped around a bag of Nando’s. _

_     “Peace offering?” _

_     He nodded silently. I pulled back the covers, inviting him in. _

_     “Here,” he said, handing me the bag and bottles before changing into a pair of sleep pants and one of my tee shirts. _

_     “Did you get Peri-Peri sauce?” I asked, opening the bag. Louis chuckled. _

_     “Like you’d allow me to live if I didn’t.” _

 

**_Cause even the stars they burn_ **

**_Some even fall to the earth_ **

**_We've got a lot to learn_ **

**_God knows we're worth it_ **

**_No, I won't give up_ **

 

_ “What are we looking at for a healing timeline?” I asked, glancing over at Louis’s small body. He was still hooked up to all the monitors. _

_     “It’s hard to say. Physically, a couple months. The fractured arm will take the longest. And you’ve got to make sure he rests. Concussions are tricky. But the mental aspect is what I’m concerned about. This was extremely destructive behaviour,” the doctor noted. I nodded in understanding and resumed staring at my boyfriend’s sleeping form. The doctor said he’d be back later and left me alone with Louis. I sank down onto the chair in which I’d taken up residence in over the last couple days. I reached out and grasped Louis’s hand in mine. _

_     “I’m right here, baby. I’m not leaving. I’m not giving up on you or us or anything. I swear. We can do this.” _

 

**_I won't give up on us_ **

**_God knows I'm tough enough_ **

 

_     “I don’t care about the rumours, Harry! I don’t care! What I care about is you! I need for you to be okay. I’ll send my career up in flames before I let someone hurt you. Even if it is just rumours. Say the word and I walk away,” Louis reminded me. I shook my head, wiping away the angry tears. _

_     “I can deal with the bullshit, Lou. It’s just the normal bullshit. It’s fine. We’re fine.” _

 

**_We've got a lot to learn_ **

**_God knows we're worth it_ **

 

_     “You lied when you said you were okay with this. Why did you lie?” Louis asked. I hung my head, ashamed I’d been caught. _

_     “I didn’t want you to get upset. I don’t have a choice in this. I either suck it up and deal or we lose everything we’ve worked for,” I told him. Louis sighed and flopped down onto the couch next to me. _

_     “We won’t lose anything, Haz. If management really wants to give us a problem over this, they’ll be losing two fifths of the hottest boy band on the planet. That won’t go over so well for them, believe me,” Louis said, clearly trying to make me laugh. _

_     “Just...promise me one thing, Louis.” _

_     Louis turned to me, giving me his undivided attention. _

_     “Anything.” _

_     I took a deep breath. _

_     “Promise me that no matter what, you’ll always fight for me. That we’ll always fight for each other. That’s we’ll never give up.” _

_     Harry pulled one of my hands to his mouth, kissing my knuckles. _

_     “I promise.” _

 

**_I won't give up on us, even if the skies get rough_ **

**_I'm giving you all my love, I'm still looking up_ **

 

    Ed finishes the song just as Louis and I have finished hugging everyone and have made our way to the archway. The shortened version played out perfectly leading us up to this moment.

    “Well...welcome, everyone,” Ed says, smiling. Soft chuckles sound from around the small space. “When these guys brought me in on their master plan, I was so excited for them. Not just at the concept of them finally getting married. But because of the manor in which they decided to do it. From the very beginning, you guys have been a team. Over the years, you’ve experienced more hardships than most people your age and yet you’ve always managed to make it work. Even when you slipped apart, you always made it back to each other. That kind of dedication...that kind of love...that’s what hit songs are modelled after.”

    “So modest, you are,” Louis chuckles.

    “And in the end...it’s still Haz and Tommo against the world. That’s what really matters. Getting to marry you guys on that stage tonight was epic. And now we get to do it all over again in front of your families. While I know this is a surprise to you, Harry, would you like to say your own vows or would you like me to read traditional ones for you?” Ed asks. I’m momentarily thrown off but I take it in stride.

    “I could come up with something, I’m sure,” I say, earning more laughs from our small audience. I open my mouth to start when Louis suddenly speaks up.

    “I’d...I’d actually really like to go first,” Louis says. My stomach flips as the feather haired boy in front of me looks down at his feet. A nervous habit he’s had for years.

   “The floor is yours, mate,” Ed smiles, gently touching Louis’s shoulder. Louis looks up and our eyes connect. He takes a deep breath.

   “Never, not even in my wildest dreams, did I believe we’d get to this day. Over the years, just as Ed said, we have endured so much. Our band, our friendships, our careers. But most of all...our relationship. From day one on the X Factor, I knew that I wanted you to be in my life forever - that I  _ needed _ you...in my life forever. One way or another, I would make it happen. And so we began this epic journey. From songwriting to buying our first home. Touring the world, facing our fears, encouraging each other. Never truly giving up...even when all seemed lost. Through thick and thin. Through the adventures and the fights. Through the light and through the dark, it’s always been us. Despite the obstacles and never ending adversity thrown at us, we’ve always gotten through it. We’re a team, Haz. You were my first love. The first person I imagined a future with. You were the first person to make me feel comfortable in my own skin. You’ve shown me what it is to be loved and to be in love.”

   Louis’s words surround me like a protective blanket - seeping into my skin and filling me with warmth I never imagined I needed.

   “I’ve always said that I would do anything to keep you happy. Even if that meant sacrificing my happiness. But I was so stupid for letting you go. It’s still you though. You’re still the one. You’ll always be it for me. Our love is something that can’t be described. It’s more than this - more than the sum of our parts. It’s all the little things. It’s drifting weightless and doing anything to try and save it. It’s playing Scrabble and ignoring the words I make up. It’s going out to eat, laying by a fireplace, back country drives, ice skating, and carnival rides. It’s promising to always stand by each other. It’s…” Louis says, his words finally being choked by the emotion. Tears leak from his cerulean eyes. I reach out and gently brush a few away. Louis locks eyes with me. “It’s being enough. There’s no could have’s or would have’s because I know that we’re enough.”

   I shift my weight from foot to foot, desperately trying to keep my own tears in check. But seeing the way this beautiful boy looks at me has me crumbling more and more by the second.

   “I always hoped and wished that we would get to this day together. And now that we have, I’m so thankful to be standing here with you today. In front of all our family and friends, the people who love us most, I get to stand here and promise myself to you,” he says, grabbing both my hands in his. He squeezes gently.

   “You are my everything. I didn’t know how empty I was without you. You’re the other half of my heart and when I’m not with you, I’m weaker.”

   The tears are flowing freely from his eyes now as the smaller boy hiccups. He clears his throat.

   “You make me strong, Harry,” he starts again, almost sobbing now. “Now that I have you, not even...not even the gods above could separate the two of us. N-nothing can c-come between you and I.”

   Full on tears now. From Louis. From me. Hell, even from Ed.

   “I love you, Harry Edward Styles. I loved you first. I loved you then. I love you now. So...with this ring, I have one last question for you,” he says, producing a simple silver band from his pocket. He holds it and my hand up between us, the cool metal against my finger tip.

   “Will you be my last first kiss?”

   The ground beneath me could have been frozen solid and I’d still be flooded with warmth. Despite the tears, I can feel my cheeks getting sore from the smile that’s been plastered to my face through Louis’s vows. Refocusing myself, I nod my head enthusiastically.

   “I will,” I promise him. With a smile that puts the sun to shame, Louis slides the ring onto the middle finger of my right hand. Where it will stay for the rest of time.

   “Not sure how you’re going to follow that one up, mate,” Ed chuckles, wiping his eyes. “But it’s your turn.”

   I glance around at the small gathering of people. Everyone is watching me. Waiting for me.

   “Lou, I don’t even know where to begin. I think between the pair of us, I’ve always been the more...prepared one...in just about everything. Whether it be to go on stage, in interviews, getting ready to go out for the day, planning a wedding before the proposal,” I say, pausing to allow people time to chuckle. And they do. “Whatever the case may be, I’m the prepared one. I’m the one who is ready for anything with a witty comeback or an awful joke just sort of hanging out in my back pocket. But now...this...I’m completely speechless.”

   I grab his hands this time, holding them tightly. “I had this great monologue planned out in my head should we ever get to this day and now...I can barely remember my name. But now that I’m thinking of it...that’s kind of perfect. Throughout most of our relationship, you’ve rendered me speechless. Mostly because you take my breath away. Every time I think I’ve got you all figured out, you surprise me. Every time I think there’s nothing new, I learn something else that makes me appreciate you even more. But the best thing - the best part of  _ us _ \- is the moments. Since the day I met you, I’ve gotten to spend every moment falling in love with you a little more. Every moment of my life is spent wrapped up in thoughts of you.

   “When I was a kid, I had all these fantastic aspirations. I wanted to do so many thing. When I worked at the bakery, I often thought to myself ‘This is it. This is the life I’m going to lead. Stuck in Holmes Chapel, working at a bakery’. I was a bit dramatic of course,” I chuckle to myself. Louis laughs, smiling as his tears have mostly slowed to a trickle. “And then I met you. And it seemed like everything I knew prior to meeting you was inconsequential. None of it mattered anymore because suddenly, I was living out my dreams with my best friend. And before I knew it, my best friend turned into the love of my life.”

   Ed hands me a silver band to match mine. I gently hold it up to Louis’s finger tip.

   “I love you, Louis Tomlinson. I have loved you since I was sixteen. Will you do me the incredible honour of allowing me to love you until the end of time?”

   Louis nods excitedly and pushes his own finger into the ring.

   “I will,” he vows despite the laughs and tears. I push the ring all the way onto his finger and then wrap my arms around him. Louis’s arms loop around my waist and hug me tightly.

   “Well. By the power vested in me by the first ordainment site Google had to offer, I now pronounce you legally married. Again. Please keep the snogging to a minimum,” Ed chuckles. I cradle Louis’s face between my hands and that’s when time stops.

   Holding him there, so close to my body, I notice. I notice everything. The small smattering of freckles across his nose that you can really only see when you’re up this close. The little pieces of his fringe that refuse to cooperate no matter how much hairspray or gel is used. The way his body angles, bending to fit with mine perfectly. How his breath hitches as I smooth my fingers over his cheekbones. I notice the way he looks at me with wide, wonder filled eyes that sparkle even on the darkest nights. But above all, I notice how everything and everyone else ceases to exist. In this moment, it’s just the two of us.

 

 

    After corralling everyone to a small restaurant located on the pier, (which I learned was owned and operated by a lovely man who Louis undoubtedly paid a large sum of money to cook for our little gathering as well as to keep quiet about it), it all started to hit me.

    We’re married. I got married today. Legally, Louis Tomlinson and I are married. I’m going to be legally changing my name to Harry Edward Tomlinson.

    “Typically this is done prior to the ceremony I, along with some others, have things to give you,” my mum says, shaking me from my thoughts. She holds out a small box to me, Niall’s mum doing the same for Louis. We take the boxes and open them.

    “Oh, mum,” I whisper through choked tears. I reach inside and pull out an old Polaroid camera. Particularly, the old Polaroid camera I used to play with as a child. The one I begged her for all the time.

    “This is your something old,” she says.

    “And this is your something new,” Niall’s mum smiles. Louis turns to me with bright smile. He offers his box to me. Inside is a beautiful photo album. The front is decorated with our names and some of our song lyrics.

    “This is amazing. You guys shouldn’t have,” I tell them. My mum just smiles.

    “Oh just wait. There’s more,” she tells me.

    “This is your something borrowed,” Liam’s mum says, hanging Louis an envelope. Louis takes it and opens it, peering inside. He takes out a piece of paper, quickly scanning over it.

    “It’s a week’s stay in Holyhead Whenever we want to go,” he tells me.

    “It’s our vacation home. It’s not much but it’s quiet. It’s a nice area and has great views. A quiet honeymoon before or after the honeymoon you’ve probably already planned,” Liam’s mum smiles. I lean forward to hug her.

    “We haven’t planned anything. This is perfect. Thank you,” I tell her. She nods, still smiling, and goes to hug Louis as well.

    “And this,” Zayn’s dad says. “Is your something blue. Doniya made them for you.”

    Yaser holds out two small boxes. I take one, handing the other to Louis. Inside is a bracelet. An piece of rope woven intricately around a piece of seaglass.

    “So there’s quite the story behind these bracelets. If you notice, the seaglass in each bracelet matches but the ropes are different. Harry, your rope comes from pieces of a stage rope at Manchester Central,” Doniya explains.

    “Where we met,” Louis whispers. Doniya nods.

    “And Louis, your rope is from pieces of rope found on the beach near the X Factor house,” she concludes.

    “Where we fell in love,” the words escape my throat despite the happy tears. I've done so much crying today, I'm shocked I have any tears left.

    “The seaglass symbolizes your relationship over time. It started out as one thing. Pieces of something bigger. Breakable. And over time, the pieces have been smoothed out, polished by water and time. They've gotten stronger and more beautiful with time. Just like your relationship. The rope is a tether to your past. While it does not define you, allow it to give you purpose and direction. Allow it to guide you into your future together,” she says. I'm speechless. Completely speechless.

    “Thank you so much, Doniya,” Louis says, hugging her. Then he steps back. “Thank you to everyone. Really, you've all made this day incredible for us. We can't thank you enough for being here. We love you.”

    “We are so lucky to have you all in our life,” I agree. Robin grabs a glass and stands up.

    “If it's alright, I'd like to say a few words,” he says. I just nod, smiling. Robin clears his throat. “I'd like to start off by thanking all of you for being here to support these boys today. Though I suppose you're not really boys anymore, are you? You've grown into bright, beautiful, independent young men and I couldn't be prouder of you. I've had the unequivocal honour of helping raise you and your sister. And then, a few years ago, I was even further entrusted to help guide four other brilliant young men. Over the years, I've watched you grow, Harry. Never once was I concerned that you may not turn out alright or that you might settle for less than you deserve. You've always been this...ball of light just waiting to overtake anything and everything around you. You're an enigma”

    “Ain't that the truth,” Louis snickers. I jab his ribs with my elbow and look back to Robin.

    “When your mum convinced you to go try out for the X Factor, I was terrified. I was terrified and a nervous wreck. But not because I was afraid you'd fail. I was terrified and nervous because I knew you'd do well. I knew it meant you'd be leaving home. And I wasn't too sure I was ready for that. I watched you pack up your bag and we all got into the car. I stood in line with you for hours. And then I watched you walk out onto that stage. And that was that. Suddenly, you weren’t a kid anymore. For any parent, that’s the scariest part. It’s not watching your child take on the world or trying new things. It’s not hearing about globe trotting endeavors or even learning about crazy stunts they pulled. No...the scariest part is when you realize they don’t rely on you anymore,” he says. His words are starting to get thick and if he cries...we’ll all be a mess.

    Robin continues, “One of my life’s greatest joys has been watching you grow up and pursue your dreams. We all know how much you loved the bakery. But this - the life you created - you’ve earned this. I’m so thankful to your mum for encouraging you to try out for the X Factor. She didn’t let you pass up the opportunity. And while we couldn’t have known then, that audition held so much more for you than we could have ever imagined.”

    Robin turns to look at Louis. “You, Mr. Tomlinson, are also an enigma. I’ll be honest...I wasn’t sure about you. When the band was formed, you were the eldest but undoubtedly, the most trouble. I could see the mischief in your eyes. The sparkle they had to them after someone found one of your booby traps or a prank you’d pulled. I was concerned about you having too much of an influence over Harry. You were headstrong and unpredictable. You did what you wanted regardless of repercussions. You never settled for anything less than amazing. And that’s what brought you to Harry.”

    Houston, we have tears.

    “Some people...well the fact of the matter is that some people don’t know what a good thing they’ve got until it’s too late. There were times over the last couple years that I worried one of you wouldn’t see it. That you wouldn’t see the spectacular thing you have. But when I really sat down and thought about it, I realized I didn’t need to worry because I know what this is,” he says, gesturing between me and Louis. “This is what true love looks like. It endures the unimaginable and comes out the other side stronger than ever. Louis, I couldn’t have picked a better partner for my boy. So I want to leave you with this: don’t ever give up on each other. Don’t go to bed angry. Stay up until three in the morning fighting, if you have to. But don’t go to bed angry. You solve nothing that way. Always take the time to admire each other. Never assume you know what the other one wants. Always always always ask. Ask for opinions. Ask for thoughts and ideas. Ask for attention. Ask for forgiveness even when you think you’re right. But above all, treat each other with kindness.”

    Robin finishes by raising his glass to us. Our families join the toast and Louis pulls me in for a kiss. It’s chaste and impossibly sweet. We’ve taken so many risks, gambled with our relationship and our careers. We didn’t take no for an answer. We changed our luck. And in this moment, we’re fireproof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there it is. I didnt do much editing so of there are any major mistakes, please leave a comment and let me know!
> 
> And as always, kudos and feedback are greatly appreciated! I love hearing from you guys!
> 
> ♡ Aria


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